


Keeping Up With The Walford's

by Mossyrock



Category: Between Two Worlds
Genre: Because that last episode was a mess, F/M, People will get what they deserve, Some Happy Endings, a fix-it, depending on the character, some unhappy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 58,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossyrock/pseuds/Mossyrock
Summary: I'm just trying to fix what a certain creator broke.Will feature every character, even the terribly written and acted ones.
Comments: 56
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I understand this is a niche fandom, so hello to all three of you reading this. You guys are the best.
> 
> We're gonna skip between characters/families fairly often, because this is all happening concurrently and I don't wanna race too far ahead with one story and neglect another. I hope it doesn't get too confusing.

Sandra had expected the call. It didn’t mean she’d been looking forward to it though. Her phone buzzed on the table – beside the laptop she was using to look at job vacancies – and she watched it for a moment. She contemplated ignoring it, letting it go to voicemail and dealing with the consequences later, but she owed them an explanation.

“Cate – Mrs Walford,” She stutteringly corrected herself. She wasn’t sure if they were still friends, after her disappearing act. ‘Almost family’, Cate had said. But she’d said it to convince her to do yet another thing she knew she shouldn’t. “I’m sorry –“

She was cut off.

“Sandra, please, we need you at the hospital,” Cate gasped breathlessly. She sounded frightened. The tears were clearly audible down the phone line. It was a far cry from the usually cool and calm woman she’d gotten to know over the past year. Sandra had never seen her anything but perfectly poised.

It scared her.

“Phillip?” She asked, already standing from her kitchen chair and grabbing her bag.

“And Bart.”

That took her by surprise and she froze. Bart? What –?

“He and Georgia were shot,” Cate answered the unasked question.

Shot? This wasn’t the US. No one gets shot in Australia. There was a story there and, while she had no idea what was happening, she felt herself being drawn back into their drama. Despite her parting letter and her resolution to stop being pulled into the world of the Walford’s, she knew she had to go. They needed her.

Damn her conscience. That was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. But she couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard she tried.

“I’m on my way,” She said as she hung up. She threw her phone into her bag and traded it for her car keys.

“Where are you going?” Her mother asked as she rushed through the living room.

“The hospital. The Walford’s...” She didn’t know how much to say. And she didn’t have much time.

“I thought you’d quit?” She was frowning, judging. Sandra didn’t blame her.

“I have... I did. They need me.”

Her mother sighed and shook her head sadly.

“Look after Thomas. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” She kissed her son’s forehead with a whispered, “I love you. I’m sorry,” and hurried out the door. 

* * *

Sophia was torn. On the one hand, she was angry and confused. On the other, she was scared.

Her call to Phillip Walford had been to confront him and ask him why – why Danny, why her and why the lies? What did he want from her?

But no sooner had she finally gotten the courage to ask, “Why did you lie about having Danny’s heart?” than she heard a familiar wail.

“Bart! No!”

The sound hit her square in the chest, forcing all the air from her lungs. It was Mrs Walford’s voice, and a different name, but it was a cry she’d made herself. The night Danny died. It was the sound of a mother, hopeless and grieving.

She’d recognise it anywhere. She heard it in her dreams.

Then there'd been a crash, glass breaking and movement. Faintly, she’d heard multiple voices, yelling and panicking.

“Mr Walford!”

“Someone call an ambulance!”

“Phillip!”

The call had ended abruptly amidst the chaos and Sophia was left gasping for breath. The memory of losing her son was forefront in her mind, but so to was concern for the man who, for some reason, had entered her life and turned it upside down.

Was Phillip alright? Was Bart? And Cate? And should she care after everything?

Her heart was pumping pure adrenalin and she felt like she had to do something. But she wasn’t sure what. She didn’t know what had happened. She threw her phone over to the opposite side of the couch and let out a cry of her own.

When had her life become such a mess? 

* * *

Sandra arrived at the hospital 15 minutes later. She rushed through the halls, searching. She almost knocked a few people over in her haste. Luckily, it didn’t take her long to find Cate, sitting alone and hunched over in the ICU waiting room. The older woman’s hair was messy, face pale and decorated with mascara smudges. Her eyes darted around, but even when they landed on Sandra, they didn’t seem to recognise her.

The stark contrast between the mistress of the empire to this woman in front of her had Sandra shaken.

“Cate?” She approached carefully, hands up and voice low. It was as if she was approaching a wild and injured animal. She didn’t know if she’d lash out or not.

Cate’s glassy eyes met hers and after a moment, the fog dissipated.

“Sandra,” She whispered. Her voice was rough.

“I’m here. What happened?” She took a seat beside her and waited for an explanation.

“We were at lunch – Phillip and I. We were connecting. He’d made up with Bart. Everything was the best it’s been in decades... and then it fell apart.”

Sandra had the feeling Cate wasn’t so much talking to her as just talking to herself. She wanted to prompt her, but she waited impatiently instead.

“Phillip... he got a call. And it turned sour quickly. I don’t know who it was. I got a call from the hospital that Bart was here and hurt. And then Phillip collapsed... I don’t even know how I got here.”

“Do you know how they are?” Sandra asked. While she was glad Cate wasn’t hysterical, her lack of urgency was driving Sandra crazy.

“Oh,” She replied, looking at Sandra as if she’d forgotten she was there. “Phillip is down the hall to the right. Bart is to the left.”

“Wait here,” She said, already hurrying away. She hesitated for only a moment, before turning right. Phillip was her patient. He needed to take priority.

Luckily, a nurse was exiting the room as she approached. He looked tired and stressed, but Sandra needed answers. She’d feel sorry for being pushy later.

“Hello. I’m Mr Walford's nurse, Sandra Jones. Can you tell me how he is?”

“He’s in a serious condition, Mrs Jones. I can’t say anymore until we’ve talked to his family –” He was interrupted by a call from inside the room.

“He’s crashing!”

From down the hall, a similar yell rang out. From the room she suspected was Bart’s.

“He’s coding!”

Doctors and nurses ran past her in every direction. Sandra flattened herself against the wall as she tried not to panic. Never in her many years of nursing had she felt so on edge. She’d lost patients of course. But the thought of losing either the Walford men had her feeling adrift.

She’d gotten in too deep and now her life felt more like a soap opera than the boring old life she used to know. 

* * *

Georgia was in pain. A lot of pain. When she’d come up with the scheme, she’d told him to aim for a flesh wound, nothing serious or dangerous. After all, how bad could it possibly be? People in movies got shot and walked away all the time. But either Mikael’d missed or he’d hit her gut deliberately. And it hurt. A lot.

Worse than that, Bart had apparently survived. She knew she’d been taking a risk, killing him before he’d updated his will, but their marriage was legal and if his parents tried to argue her inheritance, she had witnesses to their falling out. It was in the newspapers. No court would side with the Walford's, no matter how much money they had. All she had to do was turn on the tears and play the grieving, injured widow. She did look particularly good in black.

And sure, she’d have gotten a lot more money if she’d waited a few years. Because she knew Bart spent very little of his highly inflated wage, what with still living with his parents. Add to that his stock holdings and other investments and she’d be set for life.

Or at least until she found another rich man to marry.

But domesticity wasn’t exactly her scene. The idea of waiting even a few months of wedded bliss had chaffed. She’d just never envisioned herself as a doting wife and mother. And she certainly didn’t want to end up like her mess of a mother.

Yet now, she was trapped in the hospital, probably going to have horrific scars for life and her plan hadn’t even succeeded. She was almost tempted to sneak through the halls and visit her ‘beloved husband’. Maybe there was a way she could finish the job herself. Unfortunately, there were staff and cameras everywhere.

She should’ve never trusted Mikael to do the job. After the Welles debacle, he’d proven he wasn’t quite as up to the task as he’d claimed.

She’d just have to find another way out. 

* * *

Sandra made her way back to the waiting room and to Cate, who hadn’t moved from her seat. This time though, she looked up as Sandra entered.

“What’s going on? Are they alright? Was that noise one of them?” She asked desperately.

“They wouldn’t tell me, since I’m not family,” She saw Cate’s eyes begin to water, so she reached out, taking her hand. “The doctors are doing their best.”

She couldn’t lie to Cate, even to spare her feelings. She just hoped she didn’t ask any more questions.

The two women waited. It felt like days. Suddenly a doctor appeared before them, as if from nowhere. It wasn’t one of Phillip’s.

“Mrs Walford?” He began.

Sandra could hear in his voice what came next. She squeezed the hand still held in hers. 

“Yes, doctor?” 

“Mr Walford is still in a critical condition. We’re doing our best, but there’s only so much we can do. Now it’s up to him. Just be aware that he’s not out of the woods yet.”

“Bart?”

“Yes, Mrs Walford. Your son.” He seemed confused and shot a look at Sandra.

“Mr Walford – Phillip – is also here. His heart...” She avoided saying too much.

The already grave look on his face turned into something more sympathetic. Like pity.

“Should I find out how he’s doing?” He offered.

“No,” Cate answered, before Sandra could, “I’m sure his doctor will be here soon.” She attempted a smile, one of her media smiles, but it missed the mark by a mile.

The doctor shared another look with Sandra and, with an understanding nod, turned to leave.

“I’ll go grab us a coffee and some water, ok?” Sandra suggested, wanting to do something to work off the nervous energy. She couldn't understand how Cate could sit still. When she'd been at Thomas's bedside, she'd done nothing but pace. She must've walked kilometres in that tiny hospital room. 

“Thank you, Sandra. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

The guilt threatened to overwhelm her, but she swallowed it back. She offered a weak smile in return, but knew it was about as successful as Cate’s had been.

Luckily, Cate didn’t seem to notice or care.   
Sandra caught up to the doctor quickly.

“Doctor, I’m the Walford's nurse. Can you tell me more about Bart’s injuries?”

He sighed. “They’re extensive. With a head wound, it’s always hard to know the extent until the patient awakens, but he’s survived this long, despite the odds.”

A head injury – something that Sandra knew only too well. The memory of sitting beside Thomas's bed and waiting for him to wake up was a nightmare she’d relived a million times, almost every time she shut her eyes.

She’d never wanted to go through that again.

“But he’ll live?”

Another sigh. “He may. But if he does, there’s a significant chance he'll never be who he was before. And there's still no guarantee that he will survive. When he came in, we were sure he wouldn’t. Mrs Walford needs to be ready to make the choices about withdrawing life support and organ donation...”

If it hadn't been so serious, she would've laughed. Oh, the irony. 

“Thank you, doctor.” He gave another sympathetic smile and hurried off.

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, trying to focus. Now wasn’t the time to relive those horrible weeks.

“Sandra,” Came a smooth voice from behind her, startling her.

She turned to see the familiar face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, I have no idea of an update schedule or the estimated length of this. It's gonna take a lot to fix what was destroyed, so it could be a long ride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a Bella heavy chapter, but we'll get to our beloved Phillip, don't worry.

“Are you sure you’re ok with me going to the barbecue without you?” Bella yelled from her room, where she'd been busy preparing herself for the past hour. 

“Of course! You go and have fun with Marc. I’ll be alright.” 

“Are you 100% certain?” 

Sophia smiled at Bella, who had appeared, dressed casually, but in what Sophia knew was some of her most flattering clothes. She smiled back.

In the few days since Marc had asked Bella out, Bella had smiled more than Sophia had seen in years. She hated that she hadn’t noticed her daughter’s sadness sooner. Maybe a lot of hurt could’ve been avoided. But she’d been too blind to it. Maybe Danny and Bella had been right about her selfishness. 

“I’m positive. It’s just a headache.” 

She hadn’t told Bella about Phillip’s lies. Or their interrupted phone call, even though it never left her mind. There was no reason to, until she knew more. She didn’t want to ruin Bella’s new found happiness by worrying about a man who had done nothing but lie to her and meddle in her and Bella’s lives. But her calls and texts remained unanswered. Every second she didn’t hear back felt like a year. 

Her heart ached and she didn’t know why. 

“David will miss you, I’m sure,” Bella teased. 

“Let him. It’ll do him good.” 

A knock at the door interrupted them. 

“That’ll be my ride!” Bella almost skipped out of the room. 

Sophia envied her, for her carefree youth and exuberance. She remembered feeling the same, when she’d started dating Paul. But David was right. They didn’t need the butterflies and the awkwardness. They were too old to be swept off their feet. 

It didn’t stop her feeling jealous though. 

“Have fun!” 

“We will!” 

The door slammed, leaving Sophia alone with her thoughts and worries. As silence descended, she wondered if the distraction might have been a better option. 

* * *

Dr Lee,” Sandra greeted, trying not to sound too unenthusiastic. She glanced over her shoulder, to make sure Cate hadn’t seen or heard them. The last thing she needed right now was more upset. He saw her nervous look and steered her into what turned out to be an empty room. 

“Please Sandra, I think we’re a bit past the formalities, don’t you?”

“I’m honestly not sure anymore,” She sighed. While Dr Lee hadn’t technically done anything to hurt her, she could see the toll his presence had taken on the Walford family. 

He gave a wry grin. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He sat on the empty bed. He looked tired. She sympathized.

She stayed standing, arms crossed and wishing again that she wasn’t stuck in the middle of the Walford drama. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d unclenched her jaw or relaxed her posture. 

“So, you’re looking after Phillip again? Is that wise?” 

His grin slid away as quickly as it arrived. 

“Trust me, isn’t wasn’t my idea. I just happened to be the cardiologist on call when he came in. If there’d been any other option, I would’ve taken it. But to admit I can’t treat him would mean admitting what happened between Cate and I...” 

“What are his chances?” She decided to cut to the chase. The sooner everyone could go their separate ways again, the better off they’d all be. 

Maybe then she could go for a well-deserved massage. 

“I should talk to Cate and Bart first, you know that.” 

“Considering Bart is currently in worse shape than his father and Cate is a mess, I think we can dispense with the formalities. Just tell me.” 

“What happened to Bart?” He asked, concerned. He clearly still cared for Cate enough to care what had happened to her beloved son. 

Sandra almost felt sorry for him. But she didn’t want to spread news of Bart’s injuries to anyone who didn’t need to know. Besides, she still didn’t know the specifics herself. 

“That’s not important. How is Phillip?”

He glared at having his concern so summarily dismissed, but she glared back. She didn’t have time for his hurt feelings. 

“He’s hanging on. But barely. He’s been in v-fib twice so far tonight and I’m not sure it’s the last.” At least he didn’t sound exactly happy about it, no matter their complicated history. 

“What can we do? What are the treatment options?” 

“As much as I hate to suggest it, given the transplant and his already fragile health, the best option may be a pacemaker. The atrial fibrillation is an ongoing condition – since he’s not taking the doctor’s advice to take it easy – and increasing his meds is more likely to do more harm than good.” 

Sandra knew that operating on an already weak patient was a last-ditch attempt at life. But if it was as bad as he said, then they had no other option. She didn’t want to think about the odds of success. 

“Are you going to talk to Cate?” 

“I have to. I have to get her to sign the relevant paperwork.” He didn’t look thrilled by the prospect. 

She didn’t blame him.

“I'll go get her.” 

* * *

Bella never expected to be at a football barbecue as anything other than her dad’s daughter, or Danny’s sister. To be counted amongst the WAG’s was so far out of her comfort zone she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. But she’d seen Georgia Konig walk confidently amongst the Walford’s, like a mouse in the lion’s den, so she did her best to emulate it. She didn’t think she was doing too badly. Until she had to visit the locker room toilets.

“Come on, man,” She heard someone enter the locker room, laughing and clearly teasing someone. The voice echoed through the room.

“What?” Marc answered. She knew his voice, even if she didn’t know the other. 

“Danny’s sister? Really?” 

Her heart stopped and she tried to not make a sound. She hoped they wouldn’t turn the corner and see that one of the stalls was occupied. She was used to being invisible and unnoticed. She hoped it stayed that way for a little longer. 

“What’s wrong with me bringing _Bella_?” He emphasized her name, as if reminding the other man that she did indeed have one.

All her life she’d just been Danny’s little sister. Always in the shadow of her more outgoing and successful sibling. She’d almost hated him for it sometimes, even though she knew it wasn’t his fault. Danny hadn’t always been as confident as he’d appeared. 

“You’re not seriously dating her, are you?” 

“Why not? She’s nice. She’s kind and funny and smart.” 

She liked hearing him defend her, even as she knew how out of her league he was. He’d finally seen her for her. It’d taken long enough. 

“Since when do you give a fuck about any of that? She’s a 3 at best.” 

“Looks aren’t everything,” Marc countered. 

“No. But there are plenty of girls who are hot as well as smart and all that other sappy shit. Aren’t you friends with Danny’s ex, Martina? Hasn’t it been long enough?” 

There were a few seconds of perfect, tense silence. 

“She was his _fiancée_ , not just some girl he was fucking. And he _died_ , they didn’t just break up. How dare you suggest that? Fuck you and if you don’t get the fuck out of my face right now, I’m going to punch you so hard you’ll forget your own name.” 

“Alright, alright. Calm the fuck down,” The voice said, becoming fainter as the anonymous speaker hurried away. 

“Fucking idiot,” Marc sighed as whoever it was left. 

She still didn’t dare move. The tears silently slipped down her face as she tried not to sniffle. She’d known what people would think. It didn’t stop it hurting though. 

After a moment, she heard his footsteps recede as well and she let out the shaky breath she’d been holding. 

She quickly cleaned her face and reapplied her make-up – as much as she could anyway. She knew she’d never be beautiful, at least not without the surgery, but she would rather die than let them see how much their words tore her apart. 

She snuck out of the locker rooms, determined to find Marc and make her excuses, but she was intercepted by two of the other WAG’s. They were typical WAG's, pretty, slim and perfect. She recognised them, but their names escaped her. 

“Hey, Bella, right? You’re Danny Grey’s sister?” The blonde one asked. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re dating Marc now?” She continued. 

Bella looked between them, trying to figure out what they wanted and if she could escape somehow. Their faces gave nothing away, they just wore twin dazzling white smiles. 

“I guess so, yeah...” She hesitated. She thought about lying. Or was it lying when they hadn’t technically been on a date yet? She hardly thought the disastrous lunch with the Walford’s and this barbecue counted as real dates. 

Friday couldn’t come fast enough. 

She just didn’t want to hear these women’s version of what she’d heard in the locker room. She didn’t need their pity or their condescension. She didn’t think she could bear it. 

“I’m glad to see Marc’s finally grown up and decided to date someone with a brain,” The brunette finally chimed in. 

“I wondered when he’d get sick of dating Barbies with big boobs, fake smiles and no personality.”

She didn’t know how to take that. On one hand, she was surprised and pleased they accepted her. On the other hand, being compared to the models she knew were Marc’s usual type hurt. But she’d known what she was getting herself into. She didn't see what he saw in her, but she'd been too afraid to ask. 

“Thank you?” She managed not to stutter as badly as she could’ve. 

“Feel free to hang out with us, if you want. Danny was a nice guy and if Marc likes you, then you’re welcome in the WAG's club.” 

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.” It sounded about as fun as a root canal, and she hated herself for being flattered. But she was. 

One of them handed her a piece of paper with her name, Sarah, and her number. 

Behind them, she saw Marc watching them from across the pitch, so decided to make her getaway. 

“Anyway, I think Marc’s waiting for me. Bye!” She resisted the urge to sprint inelegantly away. 

Marc’s face fell when he saw hers. She had been hoping her distress wasn’t so obvious. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, pulling her further aside, out of earshot of anyone else. 

“I’m just feeling a bit sick, that’s all. I think I’d better go,” She said, shuffling nervously. She was afraid he’d ask too many questions. 

“Are you sure? Do you want me to take you home?” 

She was pleased he seemed disappointed, even if she didn’t like seeing him unhappy. 

“It’s fine. I can call a taxi or Uber.”

He looked as if he was going to argue, or ask the questions she dreaded, but they were interrupted by David. 

“Alright, gather ‘round everyone...” 

* * *

Georgia had been in and out of consciousness. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed or what had happened. She felt uncomfortable, nauseated and numb, but she knew the pain would return when whatever pain killer she was on wore off. She blinked slowly back to reality. She looked over to see her mother, asleep in a chair beside her.

“What..?” She tried to say. But her tongue wasn’t cooperating. 

Her mother startled and as soon as she saw that Georgia was awake, she leapt up, grabbing her hand. 

“Oh, my baby girl. Are you ok?” 

“I’m not sure,” She slurred. “What happened?” 

“They had to take you in for another surgery. You had an internal bleed. But you’re safe now.” Rebecca was stroking her hair. 

“Bart?” 

“He’s hanging in there,” She soothed.

Georgia hoped her grimace would be taken as a sign of pain, not of annoyance. 

She couldn’t let even her mother know the truth. But that was nothing new. They’d never exactly shared a close mother-daughter bond. 

She was fairly certain it didn't stretch to murder. 

“Mikael?” 

“I haven’t seen him. But you’re safe here, my darling. No one will hurt you again.” 

A few moments passed, before Rebecca seemed to remember something. 

“The police asked that I let them know as soon as you woke up. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. They’re standing guard so whoever did this won’t be able to hurt you again.” 

Rebecca was out of her chair and bustling away, trying to help, but ruining everything, as usual.

Georgia tried to cry out, tried to stop her, but her mother was gone before she could muster a sound. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, by the way, in case it wasn't obvious, I'm not a doctor. Everything has either been googled, or made up because it suits the story. It's going to employ some terrible TV drama type medicine and I'm sorry, but I'm also not sorry. This show became a soap opera and I'm treating it as such.
> 
> I'll update once a week, I think. And it's going to be longer than I'd first planned...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's chapter three dudes and dudettes! Are we excited? I know I am!

“Mum!” The door shut heavily. 

Sophia paused the emotional support trashy rom-com she was re-watching for the millionth time and went to greet her daughter. 

Bella sounded somewhat peturbed. She wasn't the type to randomly yell for her mother for no reason. Sophia was immediately alert. 

“You’re back early.” The player’s barbecue was known for being followed up with bar hopping and partying. When she’d gone with Paul, they’d stayed out most of the night. Danny too had made the most of the downtime between games and training. She’d tried her best, against every motherly instinct, not to judge or fret about it. Maybe she should've...

Noticing the look of distress on Bella's face, she added, “Did something happen with Marc?” She’d warned him to be careful. If it turned out he’d hurt her...

“No. But David got fired.” 

“What?” She was shocked. David had been the coach at that club for years. And they’d been all the more successful for it. Why would they fire him? 

He hadn’t mentioned anything wrong... She didn't think he had, anyway. She'd been a bit preoccupied though. 

“He seemed really upset and was well on the way to getting very drunk,” Bella continued. 

It was barely 5pm. The barbecue was always well catered – with food and drinks – but not usually enough to get drunk. 

“Should I go over and see him?” Sophia asked. She’d avoided going to the get together because she wanted to spend the day feeling sorry for herself and nervously watching her phone – and trying to avoid leaving yet another voicemail – but as a fiancée, didn’t she have a duty to be there for David? Still, the thought of having to leave the comfort of her sweatpants and couch seemed insurmountable. 

Why hadn’t Phillip called? She’d even left a few messages for Mrs Jones. She’d not heard back from anyone, but she tried not to worry about it. They lived busy lives. But it still sat at the back of her mind, casting a dark shadow. Something bad had happened, that much was obvious. The sound of Mrs Walford crying out replayed in her mind. 

“I don’t know,” Bella interrupted her thoughts. “I made Marc promise to get him home, and he said he’d text me when he did. It’s just that David seemed really upset. And angry.” 

“I don’t blame him! That club is as much his life as it was your father’s. And Danny’s.” And they all knew what had happened when Danny had lost it. It had destroyed him. 

“Why would they fire him?” Bella asked. 

“I don’t know.” He hadn’t given any indication that anything was amiss. Was he keeping secrets from her too? 

“Maybe give him some time to calm down. And sober up.” 

“You’re right. I’ll go see him tomorrow." She wasn’t looking forward to it, but David needed her support. Didn’t he deserve it? He’d supported her through everything. She owed him. But shouldn’t she feel more than just obligation? 

She tried not to think about it and instead asked Bella, “Do you want to watch a movie and take our minds off it?” 

She was beyond relieved when Bella nodded and settled on the couch beside her. 

* * *

Sandra didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. Again. It seemed lately, that was all she was. She was sick of it. 

“Cate?” She poked her head into the waiting room. It seemed Cate had receded back into her own anxiety again, because she didn’t respond. “Cate? Mrs Walford?” 

Cate startled back to life. 

“I’m sorry, Sandra. Did you say something?” 

“The doctor wants to see you, about Phillip.” 

For the first time since she’d arrived at the hospital, Cate stood up from the chair that had become her anchor and followed Sandra down the hall to where Julian waited, still in the empty room. They knew the added privacy was necessary, even if the waiting room had been otherwise empty. Who knew who could overhear their conversation? They didn’t need anything – medical or personal – leaking to the press. 

Sandra thought about warning Cate who awaited her, but she just couldn’t find the words. 

“ _It’s your ex-lover, Dr Lee, who is unfortunately treating Phillip again and might accidentally – or not so accidentally – kill him,_ ” just didn’t seem like a great thing to say, so she let his presence speak for itself. 

“Julian?” Cate gasped as if she was seeing a ghost. She made to hurry towards him, but stopped herself, shaking her head. She looked back and forth between Sandra and Julian in confusion. “What are you... You’re Phillip’s doctor again?” 

“I didn’t have any choice, I’m sorry, Cate. I mean, Mrs Walford. Phillip needed a cardiologist and I was the only one available.” Much like Cate, his usually unflappable nature was shaken. 

Sandra wished she was anywhere but witnessing this conversation, but she’d rather die than leave Cate alone to deal with everything. 

Her conscience plagued her yet again. 

“How is he? Is he awake?” Cate perked up at the mention of Phillip. 

Julian’s face fell. 

“He’s not. He’s in critical condition and we’re running out of options.” 

“But you’re the best cardiologist in the country. You can save him, right?” 

He sighed, “We’re trying. I’m trying. But his meds can only do so much.” 

“Well then, what do we do?” She looked desperately at him, begging him to have the answer. To have the magic cure. 

Julian looked at Sandra, silently begging for support. 

_Here comes the messenger again. Please don’t shoot_... Sandra sighed. It probably wasn't the best metaphor given the circumstances, but she felt like she was squarely in the crossfire.

“Dr Lee thinks the best option might be to install a pacemaker.” Sandra said, entering the conversation. Cate’s surprised eyes met hers, as if she’d forgotten she was there. 

“Well, let’s do it then. What are we waiting for?” 

“Cate, it’s not that simple. His immune system is compromised...” Sandra argued. She knew it was the only way, but she wouldn't let Cate make this decision uninformed. She knew Cate would never forgive her, or Julian, if something went wrong and she didn’t have all the facts. 

“I trust you both. If you say it’s his best chance, I trust you. So, is this his best chance?” 

The room was so silent as she awaited their answers. 

* * *

Mikael was angry. He should’ve known better. Or, he did, but he’s listened to her anyway, because he was a sucker for a pretty girl and unbelievable amounts of money. Mostly the money. And revenge. 

But it was a stupid plan and she was a stupid girl for thinking she’d get away with it. She’d been stupidly lucky to get away with everything she’d done so far.

He wasn’t sure how her luck would hold up when the Welles case went to court. All he could hope was that he’d have his riches and be far, far away by the time her terrible acting made the whole story fall apart.

He berated himself that, knowing it was risky anyway, it seemed that the damn Walford brat she called a husband had survived somehow. A direct shot to the head? How did he survive that? Which meant Mikael probably wouldn’t be receiving those millions she’d dangled in front of him, like a carrot before the mule.

As if _he_ was the mule. She truly had no idea how dumb she really was. But he let her believe she was calling the shots, so long as her goals aligned with his. Once they diverged, he’d take her money and run. Whatever happened to her was nothing less than she deserved. And same for the Walford’s. 

At least he could comfort himself that Bart would probably be never be the same. She might end up with the money after all and the Walford’s might end up in pain. And that would suit Mikael perfectly. 

* * *

Sophia pretended she wasn’t making an effort to look good. It would be silly, since there was absolutely no reason to do so. Still, she saw the changes in Bella’s confidence and the newfound care she took to look nice and decided that maybe she could do it too. Who would it hurt? 

“Hey mum. You look nice,” Bella commented as she sat, eating her breakfast at the kitchen island. 

“You think so?” She wasn’t blushing. Grown women didn’t blush. 

“Yeah. I think David will be blown away.” 

She stopped short. “Oh, yeah. David. Of course.” 

Bella didn’t seem to notice her hesitancy, as she continued reading the newspaper and eating her toast. 

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 

“That’s ok. I’m a grown up. I can look after myself. You and David can do whatever you need to do for however long you need to do it,” Her nose scrunched up and she added, “Just don’t give me any details, alright? There are some things I just don’t need to imagine.” 

Sophia decided to pretend she didn’t know what she meant. But the truth was, there was nothing to imagine. Her and David had kissed, but nothing more. 

She paused. That was weird, right? It wasn’t like either of them were waiting for marriage. That ship had sailed many, many years ago. It seemed Bella at least took for granted the exact nature of their relationship. It wasn’t a crazy notion, considering they were engaged. But they just hadn’t yet. She was thankful that at least in that, David wasn’t demanding. 

“Have a good day,” She muttered, suddenly distracted. 

“Good luck!” Bella yelled after her.

She had a feeling she’d need it. 

* * *

Cate and Sandra hadn’t left the hospital in over 24 hours. They hadn’t slept in longer. But the thought never once occurred to either of them to leave. 

Phillip was in surgery and Bart was still in a medically induced coma. The doctors were debating how long to keep him under, to give his brain time to rewire and repair itself. At least, the talk of him ‘not making it’ had subsided. Now, talk of the man he might be when he awoke was all they could speculate on. 

Cate couldn’t do anything but believe he would be fine. Her optimism, or blind faith, was immovable. 

“He survived, didn’t he? He’s too strong to let this stop him. I'm not going to lose him. I can't lose him.” 

Sandra's expectations were more realistic – informed by her knowledge as a nurse and her own personal experience. Thomas’s injuries had been severe, but never life threatening. She was tempted to mention it, to attempt to break Cate’s bubble of blissful ignorance and lower her expectations. But she couldn’t. Too soon she’d find out the reality and Sandra couldn’t blame her for wanting any scrap of comfort she could find, no matter how unrealistic or fleeting. 

Besides, with Phillip’s life hanging in the balance as well, she expected that one way or another, Cate would be losing someone she loved. Whether literally or figuratively was still to be determined. 

“Cate, Sandra,” Julian interrupted their contemplations. He looked as tired as they both felt.

His face gave nothing away as he joined them in Phillip’s empty room and sunk down into one of the chairs. 

“Phillip, is he alright?” Cate asked. Her hand flew out, blindly seeking one of Sandra’s. Sandra was only to happy to grasp it securely in hers. They both needed the other to ground themselves as both their hearts leapt into their throats. 

“The surgery was a success,” He began. Cate cried out in relief, but he put a hand up to stall it. “His immune system is still weak and he’s not out of the woods quite yet. But we all know he’s a stubborn bastard, so he’s got a better chance than most.”

Neither woman rebuked him for his language. They knew it was true. And they couldn’t fault him for being bitter. 

Cate knew she’d treated Julian badly. None of it had been his fault. She’d asked him for drinks, she’d propositioned him – putting his professional reputation on the line – all because she’d felt lonely since Gareth's death. And what a mess _that_ had turned out to be. The thought of Gareth now turned her stomach, but Julian had been the comfort she needed. She’d used him and she owed him Phillip’s life, at least twice over. No apology could ever be enough. 

“Thank you, Julian. Truly,” Cate offered him her other hand and he hesitantly took it, with an uncomfortable, somewhat guilty glance thrown Sandra’s way. 

There was no hope of making it less personal than it was. Thankfully, no one interrupted the scene to prompt any uncomfortable questions. 

When Phillip was wheeled back into his room still unconscious, but alive, only the two tired women were there to greet him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're pretty much done setting up the storylines and soon we shall get to play around with them. For example, next chapter, our beloved Phillip awakens... what will happen next? Find out next time on This Story. 
> 
> And always feel free to ask questions/point out anything dumb I've missed. Editing is hard when you know what it's supposed to say and your brain just fills it in with wishful thinking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is Wednesday, my dudes! You know what that means...
> 
> I've upped the rating on this, because I'm gonna be getting into some heavy stuff with some of the characters. I'll put trigger warnings for stuff as we go.

Sandra had barely made it to her bed before collapsing. Both Walford men were – miraculously – alive and stable. She could rest. 

But she fell asleep with her phone clutched in her hand anyway. Just in case. 

* * *

Phillip groaned. He was used to the pain by now. But the heaviness in his chest was new. He tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs felt restricted. His eyes fluttered open. He looked around the now familiar hospital room, until his eyes landed on a second bed. On it lay the sleeping form of his wife. She looked pale and anxious, even in sleep. 

A grandmotherly nurse bustled into the room, startling him. She had to be at least ten years older than him, with grey hair tied into a severe bun and permanent laugh lines deep around her eyes. 

“Oh, Mr Walford. Glad to see you’re back with us. I’m Gladys. It’s nice to meet you.” She put a jug of water and a bowl of fruit on the table, before turning back to him. “How are you feeling?” Her eyes were openly assessing him. 

She handed him a glass of water, which helped to soothe his parched throat. It felt like he’d gargled sand. 

“Like I have an elephant on my chest. Cate, is she alright?” He couldn’t help but worry. She’d actually seemed concerned about him, after his last episode. It was the first time in decades he’d felt like someone actually and genuinely cared about him – outside of his money and influence. 

“She’s just tired, poor thing. She and Sandra were here all hours of the day and night. Mrs Walford barely convinced Sandra to go home before she passed out herself, poor love. She’s been out for around 5 hours now,” She said, checking her watch. 

He wondered how long he’d been unconscious. His memory of getting to the hospital was missing. 

“How did I get here? What happened?” 

“Well, I should let Mrs Walford tell you the news. I’d have Dr Lee in to talk to you, but he was faring about the same as your ladies. He looked dead on his feet, poor love.” 

Phillip blinked. Julian? What wasn’t this nurse saying? Why did Cate have to be the one to tell him? 

It was all too much for his still anaesthesia addled mind, that he closed his eyes and drifted off again. 

* * *

Sophia pulled up in front and tried to call her racing heart. _There is no need to be nervous_ , she told herself, desperately trying to make herself believe it. She straightened her dress and her posture in the hopes she’d not look so out of place. 

She didn’t know the protocol, so she nodded and smiled at the doorman, with a quick thanks, and made her way to the reception desk. The atrium was bigger than her entire house. It was almost empty and devoid of all colour, built with sharp lines and shades of grey. It was modern and minimalist and expensive.

She’d never felt smaller. 

“Hello. May I help you?” A young receptionist greeted. His smile was the forced smile of an unhappy service worker. 

“Hi. Um... Yeah, I was here to see Phillip, I mean, Mr Walford?” 

“May I please take your name?” He asked, typing something into his computer, without breaking eye contact. 

It was unsettling. 

“It’s Sophia Grey.”

“And did you have an appointment?” He continued. This time he did glance at the computer, giving Sophia a second to compose herself again. 

She breathed a sigh of relief. 

“No. But he said... Well, we’re friends.” 

The look on the receptionist’s face didn’t seem to change, yet she could tell he was judging her. Did Phillip Walford ever just have friends pop by to visit? She didn’t get the feeling that he did. 

And were they actually friends? She’d never been sure. And now, after everything, she was even more confused. If it was a friendship, it was far different from any others she’d ever had. 

“I’m afraid none of the Walford’s are currently in residence. I’ll leave a message and have them call you. Do they have your number?” 

“Yes, they do.” 

“Alright then. Thank you and we’ll see you again.” He smiled at her, but his message was clear 

She stood there for another few seconds, stunned by the sudden dismissal. But she felt too uncomfortable to bother arguing, so she just turned and left. 

She looked up at the penthouse, as if she could see inside it from the footpath. 

She sighed and got back in the car. Maybe she’d never know the truth. 

* * *

“Mrs Walford?” Georgia jumped at the name, before remembering that the voice was referring to her. She was Mrs Walford. For now. 

The same, stern detective who had helped her arrest Welles entered, interrupting her pity party. He was followed by two uniformed officers. 

She tried not to let her pain or anxiety show. 

“Detective Taylor.” 

“How are you feeling? Are you up to answering some questions?” He motioned to one of the officers, who pulled out a tape recorder. 

“I’m not sure. I’m still drowsy from the anaesthetic and I’m in a bit of pain.” She winced, as if to prove her incapacity, but in doing so, something shifted and she couldn’t fight the real tears it brought to her eyes. 

“We’ll be quick, we promise.” 

She didn’t believe him for a second, but if it would get him out of her room quicker, she’d do whatever he wanted. 

“Do you have any idea who did this?” He asked, pulling a notebook out of his jacket pocket. 

“No. I mean, we received an anonymous threat from someone the day before, but I didn’t take it seriously. Neither of us did.” She tried to arrange her face into something regretful, something sympathetic, but through the haze of the numbing drugs, she couldn’t be certain of her success. 

“What did the threat say?” 

“It said something about Welles being innocent and that I needed to die. It sounded like a childish prank.”

The threatening note had been real and it hadn’t been until after, as Bart slept, that she thought to use it to her advantage. She wondered who’d sent it and what they’d think if the police ever found them. Hopefully they never would. 

“Do you still have this note?” 

“I think Bart threw it away. Or maybe it’s still at the house. I can’t remember.” She knew very well it was still in a drawer in the kitchen. She’d fished it from the bin and saved it, knowing it was the beginning of her alibi. 

“Did you see anyone or anything unusual?” 

“No.” 

“Apart from the note, have you had any strange calls, or is there someone who’d wish to hurt you?” 

“I mean, the Walford’s aren’t exactly fond of me,” She began. But she knew that unfortunately, no matter how she spun it, she couldn’t peg this on the Walford’s. God, she wished she could. But they might disown him, "But they’d never hurt Bart."

“Anyone else?” He asked, eyes staring her down.

“What about your husband? Does he have any enemies?” 

“ _Bart_?” She gasped, faux shocked. “I mean, he runs his business and sometimes people might not like the way he does, but he’s too sweet for anyone to really dislike him.” 

Detective Taylor hummed, adding something to his notebook.

“Excuse me,” A doctor interrupted, “But I haven’t cleared this patient for an interrogation.” Her face was as stern as the detective’s. 

The detective looked like he wanted to argue, but the doctor continued, “I need to speak to my patient. _Alone_.” 

Her glare was enough to send the police packing, muttering their apologies. Georgia was relieved, until the doctor turned to her again. 

The look on her face made Georgia’s heart stop. 

* * *

When Phillip woke up again, he found Cate sitting beside him. She’d regained some colour in her cheeks and she looked less anxious, though still not at ease. She glanced up from her phone when she heard him moving. 

He smiled at her and she returned it, though he knew her too well to believe it. Something was bothering her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brow furrowing. 

“I’m not supposed to tell you.” 

That took him by surprise. Usually when she lied, or ‘lied by omission’, she didn’t just announce it. She liked to pretend he didn't know when she was lying and he let her think that. It was easier that way. 

“Why not?” 

“Your heart, Phillip. The doctors –“ 

“You mean Julian?” He interrupted. 

She pursed her lips and looked away. He almost felt guilty for it. But he didn’t like being lied to or treated like a child. 

“I’m sick and tired of you and Sandra coddling me. Just tell me.” His tone wasn’t exactly angry. More curt and fed up. 

“Excuse me? Calm down, please. It’s not good for your heart.” The elderly nurse from before appeared in the doorway and scolded him. 

He glared at the interloper.

“Is this any of your business?” He spat back. 

“It is if you flat line again. Your wife here has been through a lot.” 

He wanted to yell at her for her insolence, but Cate stopped him. She nodded at Gladys, who shot one more warning look at Phillip before moving on. 

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to get too worked up.” Her eyes were beseeching. 

He wanted to argue, but he simply pouted and said a short, “Fine.” 

“You had another episode.” 

He refrained from replying, “ _Obviously_.” 

“And you’ve had to have a pacemaker installed.” 

That made the heavy, congested feeling in his chest make sense. 

Yet, so far, he wasn’t sure why she had felt the need for secrecy. But there was clearly something she was hiding. 

No doubt it was about Julian. The thought should have made him angry. But all he could feel was numb. Her leaving was always inevitable. It could no longer hurt him. He’d made his peace with it as soon as she’d cheated on him those three long decades ago. 

She hesitated, looking at her hands in her lap and he sighed impatiently. If she was going to leave, he’d rather she just say it. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” He prompted. 

“Bart is here.” 

“Has he brought his _delightful_ wife with him?” 

All things considered, he found Georgia to be an interesting character. Not who he’d have chosen for his son to marry, but interesting, if not a little crazy. He wished he could’ve gotten to know her better and given a proper judgement, before Bart proposed. But Bart had inherited his stubbornness and recklessness. The more he was pushed, the harder he’d push back. He’d inherited that from his own father. 

“Sort of...” She was hesitating again. 

“What do you mean, sort of?” He was losing patience by the second. Whatever painkillers he’d been on seemed to be wearing off, as every moment, his chest ached more, making him irritable. Not that he was patient at the best of times. 

“They were shot.”

“They were _what_?!” 

The pain that shot through his chest was the worst he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t feel anything but pain and panic. He could vaguely hear Cate yelling and other voices joining her. He felt hands on him, felt a forced sleep start to overcome him and then nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phillip is awake! For a brief moment. 
> 
> Don't worry though, he'll be fine. Of all the characters, he's one of the few who are getting happy endings.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff is finally happening! Now that the main lines are set up, the story train will be whizzing along the tracks. All aboard and hold on to your hats. There's a few sharp twists and turns approaching.
> 
> Trigger warnings in the end notes.

By the time Sophia had finally pulled up in front of David’s house, she’d managed to talk herself in circles about Phillip.

Maybe she didn’t care if she ever saw him again. He’d barely entered her life at all and everything he’d said and done may have been a lie. She didn’t need him and his crazy world disrupting hers any more than it already had. Bella had said it was weird he’d tried to insert himself into their lives and maybe she’d been right.

But at the same time, there was something about him that had her fascinated. He’d named his foundation for Danny. He’d done it for her, to meet her. He’d seemed genuine. And she’d felt sorry for him. His life couldn’t be easy. He’d called them friends and he’d done nothing to harm her. Why go to so much effort to meet her, to earn her trust? She was dying to know. She didn’t think she’d ever be satisfied without an answer. But even if he did give her answers, would they be the ones she wanted? Would they be lies too?

It was in this confused and distracted mindset that she found herself at David’s door.

“Hey. Come in,” He greeted. He looked tired. He had three-day growth and looked like he hadn’t showered.

“Hi.”

He leant in, as if to kiss her, but she shied away. She made her way into the living room.

“What?” He barked after her.

“Nothing. Just don’t want to get a beard burn, that’s all.” She tried to soften the comment with a smile, but his eyes just turned stormy.

“I s'pose Bella told you the news.” He wandered to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He opened it, too roughly and causing some to spill, and threw the cap on the bench. It landed next to two empty bottles. He dropped down on the couch next to her and sighed.

Sophia wondered where Carrie was.

“She did. I’m sorry, David,” She went to put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off.

“Yeah, well. It’s their loss.” He was clearly trying to dismiss it and pretend he didn’t care. Just like Paul and Danny, pretending to be so tough, like nothing could touch them. She’d always hated that. It felt too close to a lie.

“Did they say why?”

“Nah. Just that ‘ _it was time to move on’_ ,” His tone was mocking and he gave a disgusted grimace.

“I know how much that club meant to you,” She said sympathetically.

He just snorted and continued drinking. He’d downed half the bottle already.

“I think it’s time I left anyway. Can’t stay in one place forever, right?”

She hated the defensiveness.

“No. But it’s ok to be upset –“

He laughed. “Upset? Why would I be upset? That club never did anything for me anyway.”

“You know that’s not true. That’s where you and Paul both started. I know how much it meant to him. And Danny.”

“Yeah, but then Paul actually went and got drafted into the big leagues. Not like me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” She began.

“Yes, it does!”

“David –” She began.

He cut her off again.

“No. You don’t understand! No one does. Paul forgot about our shitty little club as soon as he got signed to the Swans and Danny pissed it away by being stupid and reckless. This club was my whole fucking life!” He yelled, punching the couch arm.

Sophia flinched.

“It’ll be alright.”

“No, it won’t be fucking alright. Stop trying to pretend it will. You have no idea, so just shut the fuck up and leave me alone!”

Sophia was shocked into silence, too afraid to move or speak.

He seemed to regret his outburst when he saw her face, but before he could apologise, she was off the couch and out of the house.

She didn’t breathe until she’d started the car and pulled away. She saw him watching her leave in the mirror, but she didn’t stop.

* * *

Sandra awoke slowly, then remembered why she’d fallen asleep fully clothed and groped desperately around the bed, trying to find her phone. She was happy to see the lack of missed calls (from Cate at least. There were a few from Sophia Grey, but she ignored them for now) and only a few text messages. The first was from Gladys, who even at 67 was phone savvy.

_“Your patient is awake again. You’re right, he seems a cranky old bugger.”_

The others were from Cate, time stamped about ten minutes later.

_“Phillip woke up. But he’s been sedated, after I told him about Bart.”_

_“There’s no news on Bart yet. But no news is good news.”_

_“Are you coming back soon? I think Phillip would appreciate it, when he wakes up.”_

_“I'd appreciate it.”_

She sighed and got up. She needed to shower and eat before she could go back to the hospital. She needed all the strength she could get.

Why did she do this to herself?

* * *

Georgia didn’t know what to say. Or how to react. The doctor was watching her carefully, waiting for her to say or do something. But she was at a loss.

Maybe it was the painkillers, numbing the feelings. But she couldn’t even muster the energy to pretend.

“Mrs Walford? You understand what I’ve said, don’t you?” The doctor looked a second away from calling the psych ward.

“Yes. I understand.” She nodded robotically.

“Would you like me to get your mother? The police had her wait outside, but I can get her if you need?”

Georgia had never relied on her mum. She’d never needed her for comfort. She’d learnt young that her mum couldn’t – or wouldn’t – protect her. But now, she needed someone to lean on.

“Yes, please.”

The doctor hurried out of the room, leaving Georgia alone. Her hand drifted to her belly, gingerly resting over the place her stitches knitted her back together. She knew it was in her head, but she felt like she could feel the difference. Feel where her uterus used to be.

She’d never really thought about having kids. She’d never longed for them, never seen a baby and thought “ _I want one_ ". She’d never wanted to be her mother or subject a child to the life she’d led. But now, without the option, she found herself bereft.

Her mother rushed into room, panicked in a way Georgia had never seen. She was so used to seeing her mother dulled and number by the drugs and alcohol.

This was new and it hit her in a way that had the tears free flowing.

“Oh, my darling. The doctor told me. It’ll be ok. I promise. It’ll be ok,” Rebecca repeated, taking Georgia carefully into her arms, trying her best not to hurt her.

Georgia let herself weep into her mother’s shoulder.

* * *

Sandra’s mother just sighed as she headed out the door. Sandra was glad to avoid the argument, but hated what it said about her. She’d been absent from her family’s lives for so long. It felt like they didn't really need her anymore. 

Arriving at the hospital, she was happy to see Gladys and have her a hug.

“I hope you’re rested and fed,” Gladys warned as they parted.

“I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow,” She assured the older woman.

Sandra and Gladys went way back, to when Sandra had been a graduate nurse, still learning. They’d worked on the same ward for a few years. Until Thomas’s accident, when Sandra had been forced to quit, to take care of him. She’d missed Gladys and had been overjoyed to see her here, after years apart and when Sandra needed her the most.

Gladys had been a friend, but also a mentor. If it wasn’t for Gladys teaching her all she knew, Sandra knew she’d never have been able to handle Phillip and his moods. Gladys took no nonsense – she wasn’t the ‘spoon full of sugar’ type – and Sandra was glad she was looking after him now. He’d need her discipline if he was to look after himself and heal. 

“How’s our patient?” She asked.

Gladys tutted. “He was awake for all of 10 minutes. From what I understand, Mrs Walford told him about their son.”

“Did he have another episode?” How it hadn’t killed him, she wasn’t sure. If was no doubt his stubbornness and refusal to relinquish control, even to his own mortality. If it was up to him, he’d live forever.

“No. His heart was fine, surprisingly. It seems he just had a panic attack and his heart rate spiked, but not dangerously. We sedated him before he could do himself any real damage.”

Sandra shook her head sadly.

“What now?”

“We have to wait until he wakes up again, which shouldn’t be much longer. We couldn’t risk knocking him out for long. Even this much was risky.”

“He’s more vulnerable than he’s willing to admit,” Sandra sighed.

“Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll make sure, at least while he’s under my watch, that he behaves.”

Sandra didn’t doubt it.

“How’s Cate holding up?”

“Mrs Walford is rightfully stressed. Running herself ragged between her husband and son's hospital beds. Poor dear,” She paused, eyes assessing Sandra. “How did you get so messed up in this family anyway?”

“It’s a long story.” Sandra wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up here herself.

“Well, you’re lucky I’m due a lunch break.”

* * *

Sophia arrived home, feeling like she’d run a marathon. Her head pounded and all she wanted to do was lie down somewhere dark and never move.

Unfortunately, Bella was busy at the piano practicing, some loud, upbeat piece Sophia immediately hated. Still, she couldn’t just tell her to stop, so she swallowed her painkillers and decided to grin and bear it.

She collapsed on the couch and closed her eyes. She wasn’t one for meditation, but she was willing to try anything to calm her racing thoughts.

“Hey, mum!” Bella yelled after a moment.

Sophia cringed.

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I invite the band around? We had a new song we wanted to play and here’s the only place we can all meet.”

Sophia couldn’t say no. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. Yet the thought of a group of excited, instrument wielding teenagers overtaking her house filled her with dread.

“Of course,” She yelled back. “You know your friends are always welcome.”

She was doing her best not to be the selfish mother Bella had accused her of being, but it looked like it was going to be harder than she’d expected.

* * *

Phillip was angry. He thought he had a right to be, having been knocked out against his will.

“Bart?” He groaned as he awoke for the third time.

“He’s alright. He’s stable,” Sandra said, appearing beside him. Looking around, he noticed Cate was gone and Sandra answered that unasked question too. “She’s with him now. He’s in a coma while he recovers. But he’s alive. She likes to sit with him, when she’s not with you.”

“What happened? And no putting me to sleep this time.” He eyed his IV with suspicion.

“Both he and Georgia were attacked. They both survived,” She assured him.

Of that, he wasn’t sure whether to be happy about that or not. There was no love lost with the girl, but he was relieved as far as he was glad Bart wouldn’t have to deal with losing her.

“How bad?”

“I don’t know about Georgia, but Bart...” She was hesitating.

“Don’t lie to me,” He warned, as gruff as he could manage. He knew it wasn’t very effective though and he felt his weakness more than ever.

“He was shot in the head. He shouldn't have survived. But he’s strong.”

“Will he...” He didn’t have the words to ask what he needed to.

Thankfully, as always, Sandra was there to help.

“With any brain injury, it’s hard to know until they’ve woken up. There’s likely to be some lasting damage.”

His eyes began to water, but he blinked it back. He couldn’t let anyone see him cry. It was one of the best lessons his father had taught him. Not even Cate had seen him cry since that night...

“Can I see him?” He asked, voice weak and wavering. He cleared it and went to reach for a glass of water. She met him half way and handed it to him. This was familiar and reassuring at least.

The elderly nurse who he somewhat recalled from his previous moments of consciousness appeared behind Sandra. She was the one who’d drugged him, he was sure.

“You can see him once you’ve recovered enough to leave this bed. Until then, you’re to focus on your own health. If I see you’ve tried to endanger yourself in anyway, I’ll call security to cuff you to the bed. Don’t think I won’t,” She threatened.

He wanted to tell this pushy woman to stop interrupting and that it was laughable she thought she could stop him. But both she and Sandra were looking at him with identical looks of disapproval, so he bit his tongue. It wasn’t a submission, just the time honoured strategy of knowing when to fight his battles.

“I’ll go get Cate for you, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger - Georgia has lost the ability to have children, due to her injury. She will be struggling with this for the rest of the story. But I'll start her bits with her name, so you know what to skip. And honestly, who doesn't wanna skip Georgia? She was the worst character which is saying something, because the competition was fierce. I mean, she beats out Cate, who has hurt our beloved Phillip, so you know she's trash.  
> Also, David is becoming an alcoholic, abusive piece of garbage. Because he's already a sexist, homophobic arsehole, so I'm going all in.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there's any trigger warnings for this one. 
> 
> This is not an action packed chapter, but it's setting up what happens next.

Sophia was trying her best not to yell at the innocent kids who were making far too much noise for four so called introverts. If they were practicing their music, she wouldn’t mind. But instead, they were talking and laughing and having fun. 

It was driving her insane. She just wanted to be able to think – about David, about Phillip, about how she was feeling and what she wanted to do next, but she couldn’t focus. 

So, when her phone began to ring and the display showed her it was Jane Forbes, she almost screamed. 

But she answered it anyway, using it as an excuse to go outside and get away from the racket. 

“Hi, Jane. How are you?” 

“I’m fine. But... Have you heard from Mr Walford?” 

“No, I haven’t. He’s been busy...” She began the lie, before Jane scoffed. 

“You’re not joking. I’m just wondering if he’s ok. I haven’t been able to get through to anyone since the attack.” Her voice was uncharacteristically sombre. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, worried. She’d known something had happened, of course. But the more time had passed, the more she thought she’d imagined the whole thing. 

“You haven’t read today’s news, have you?” 

Sophia had cancelled all her subscriptions and deleted every news app on her phone after Danny had died. She didn’t need to read yet another story about him, making him out as some kind of evil. 

Social media had been harder to avoid, and far more vicious, but she’d done her best to block and mute and, when things got too bad, delete them all together. 

“No. Should I have?” 

“It’s Bart. He and Georgia Konig were attacked, almost killed.”

“What do you mean attacked? Are they alright?” Sophia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Why would someone do such a thing? 

“The details are unconfirmed, but Bart was in critical condition, last I heard. They were apparently shot.” 

That explained the scream and the panic she’d heard before they’d been disconnected. No wonder she hadn’t heard from anyone. She doubted she’d be top priority, while his son was injured and possibly dying. 

No wonder the receptionist at the tower had looked at her strangely, when she’d said they were friends. A friend would have known. A friend would’ve been there, supporting him. 

She felt stupid. 

“And Phillip? Mrs Walford?”

“Like I said, the details are scarce, but I believe only Bart and Georgia were targeted.”

She sighed in relief, then felt immeasurably guilty. She just hoped, if Phillip really did have Danny’s heart, that it was still beating.

“If you hear from them, let me know?” Jane asked. 

Sophia knew she wouldn’t. She hadn’t told her about Danny’s heart – though that was now a confusing mess – and she wouldn’t sell her details of his gravely injured child. 

“I’ll let you know.” 

* * *

“Phillip!” Cate rushed into his room, straight to his side, and gripped his hand tightly in hers. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

Sandra watched as Cate began to cry. She looked away. Cate was a proud woman and Sandra wanted to give her the privacy she would want. 

“Bart... What happened? Is he alright?” Phillip asked, voice soft and broken. His eyes filled with tears.

Sandra thought about leaving the room, leaving the two alone in their grief, but she worried in trying to leave, she might draw their attention. Instead, she tried her best to blend into the wall and not move. 

“He’s... We don’t know. He’s alive. But the doctors think he might never be the same.” 

Sandra knew Cate still held out hope for a happy ending. And of course, Sandra hoped for the best. But she knew better. 

“Why did this happen? Why Bart?” He looked so confused and heartbroken and young. Much younger than his 55 years. 

“I don’t know... I don’t know,” Cate replied. “But you’re here and you’re alright and he will be too.” 

Cate raised his hand and kissed it. He looked confused, shocked and then pleased, before settling back into the grief of a father, worried for his only child. 

The two sat, hand in hand, surrounded by their haze of heartbreak and anxiety. 

Sandra stood a silent guard over them, willing to give comfort if they needed, but knowing they needed only each other in that moment. 

“I need to see him,” Phillip broke the silence, attempting to sit up and eyeing all the tubes and wires that held him captive. 

“Oh no you don’t, mister. You’ll injure yourself and when he wakes up, you won’t be there for him.”

Sandra rushed over to him, stilling his ascent with a firm hand on his shoulder. 

Cate looked at her in surprise, clearly having not noticed her presence. 

“Sandra’s right. You need to recover yourself. He’ll need you. We’ll both need you.” 

He may back down with a pained sigh. Logically, Sandra knew Phillip wouldn’t be able to stand up, let alone hobble over to the ICU where Bart still lay unconscious, but she’d seen parents do crazy things when it came to their kids. 

And despite Phillip’s threats of disowning Bart, he did love him. In his own, messed up way. Would he still love him so much if he knew the truth – that Bart wasn’t really his son? 

Hopefully, for everyone’s sake, he’d stay in blissful ignorance forever.

* * *

Georgia was restless. She hated hospitals, with the noises and smells and she hated being reminded of how much her life had been destroyed. 

She’d only been admitted 24 hours before, but already she was desperate to escape. 

“How much longer until I can get out of here?” She asked every passing nurse, doctor and orderly. 

“You’re healing well,” Her surgeon had assured her, “But we need to be sure you’re in the best possible position to heal fully before we let you go.” 

She resisted the urge to scream. If she had to look at the same four walls or watch shitty television on a tiny screen for one more minute, she was sure she’d lose her mind. 

Luckily, she still had a game to play. 

“Can I at least visit my husband?” Her eyes filled with tears. 

The doctor looked at her with pity. 

“Of course. I’ll have a wheelchair arranged for you.”   
She was escorted, flanked by two police officers, different than the ones before, and a rather handsome nurse to push her chair. She felt rather special and resisted the urge to smile too widely at the attention she drew from everyone she passed. She needed to play the role of the injured woman, grieving wife and scared witness. 

She’d never played a part so complex before. It was easy to lie, to bat her eyelashes and catch a man. She’d done that many times. It was how she’d met Mikael. It was how she’d met Bart. 

Pretending to be a sympathetic (hopefully) soon-to-be widow was something far harder. Combined with her Welles revenge plot, she was having to pretend to be something else more often than not. She couldn’t even let her guard down around her own mother, though that wasn’t too different from usual. And her mother was no great model for a grieving widow either.

But she was determined to get her way, no matter what it took. 

She’d killed before. She’d do it again if she needed to. 

It was funny, that killing her own father had been so easy. She’d never felt a single twinge of guilt. But then, she never felt guilt anyway. Guilt was nothing but an emotion that other people felt. 

As she was pushed into the ICU room, where Bart lay, his head covered in bandages, his body obscured by wires and tubes and cables and more machinery than she’d ever seen before, she was tempted. 

He looked dead already. Only the beeps of the machine reminded her that he wasn’t. 

But she couldn’t. Even as the police and nurse left her alone, to give her “privacy with her husband", she knew she couldn’t risk it. She didn’t need the suspicion. Besides, she didn’t know what to unplug. 

After a few minutes, she pretended to be too distraught and had them wheel her back to her room. 

She’d just have to call Mikael and make some more arrangements. 

* * *

Sophia was watching her phone. Jane had promised she’d call with any updates and Sophia had called and left another message, this time of sympathy, with both Mrs Jones and Phillip. She was hoping she’d hear back from someone with news soon, but she wasn’t holding her breath. It didn’t help that her phone had been ringing all day. 

David didn’t seem to know when to stop. 

At least he hadn’t turned up unannounced. 

She knew she needed to talk to him at some point, but she didn’t have the strength. He’d upset her. He’d scared her. For a moment he’d reminded her of the worst parts of Paul. What she’d youthfully thought of as passion and impulsivity when they’d first met had become anger and unpredictability. By the time Paul had died, he’d been a different person to who she’d thought she’d married. Whether he’d changed, or her perception had, she wasn’t sure. 

But she was sure she didn’t want that again. What she wanted was stability and comfort. She thought she’d found that with David. But maybe she’d been wrong. 

She switched off her phone and snatched up a book, trying to lose herself in its pages. Yet, her attention was always somewhere else, and after a few minutes of reading the same page again and again, she put it down again. 

She felt the ever growing need to do something, so she grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

* * *

Phillip was bored. He’d read the newspaper – twice, including the horoscopes, which he considered bullshit – and had then taken to staring into space, worrying. 

Cate had returned to Bart’s bedside to hold vigil while he was still confined to his bed. He’d have snuck out and joined her long ago, except that he knew he wouldn’t get far. Not just because he’d get caught by the eagle-eyed doctors and nurses, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough yet. His chest was still adjusting to the hunk of metal that now pressed into his organs. 

He knew he’d take two steps and keel over. He hated feeling weak. It reminded him too much of his childhood. His dad had never let him forget how weak and pathetic he was. He’d grown to hate his father. It hadn’t been hard. 

But now, thinking back on his relationship with his own son, and some of the things he’d said to him during their fights, he felt guilty. Had his father ever felt the same guilt for the things he’d said to Phillip? Had he felt guilty for the things he’d done? 

Phillip wasn’t sure his father had the capacity for guilt. Or love. 

He was interrupted from his musings by Gladys.

“Morning, Mr Walford. How are we feeling today?” 

He ignored her. She had been nothing but annoying. He’d requested a new nurse numerous times, but been refused. Somehow this one was sticking around. He was looking forward to getting home and having Sandra looking after him again. 

“Would you like a book or something? You must be bored out of your mind!” She fussed around, cleaning up discarded trash and checking his chart. 

“Do you know what my wife has done with my phone?” He asked. He hadn’t seen it since he’d awoken and while he didn’t love using it, it was currently his lifeline to the outside world. He knew they wouldn’t allow his laptop, afraid he’d try to begin working again. He’d tried that last time. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I’ll ask her, next time she pops by. I’d suggest you ring her, but obviously you can’t,” She gave a wheezing laugh at her own joke.  
He didn’t join in. 

“You know, Sandra said you were much more talkative and, well, not nice exactly...” She trailed off. 

His sharp eyes met hers, but he didn’t respond. 

“Sandra is an amazing woman though, isn’t she?” She asked.

She was persistent. He had to admire that. 

“She’s been an efficient nurse and loyal worker,” He answered shortly, if only to shut her up. 

It didn’t work. 

“High praise from the illustrious Mr Walford,” She laughed again. 

He sighed, angrily, but didn’t snap back. He simply glared. His glare was usually enough to intimidate even the most seasoned business men. 

This woman didn’t bat an eye. 

“Of course, she works too hard. I hope you treat her well. Poor thing barely rests, being a single parent. Such a shame, what happened with Thomas.” She was shaking her head sadly. 

He wanted to ask who Thomas was, and how this woman knew Sandra so well, but he didn’t dare. He felt as if he should know. Like this woman would judge him for not knowing. After all, he’d had Sandra living with them for about a year and to not know felt like a failure. He wouldn’t admit to a failure. Ever. 

“She doesn’t complain.” 

“She wouldn’t, of course. She’s not nearly assertive enough. But she’s been through a lot and is a good friend to you and Mrs Walford both. You’d better appreciate that.” She was frowning at him and glaring over the top of her bifocals. 

He felt oddly chastised and wondered how Gladys had the audacity. Besides, what had Sandra said? Was she unhappy? 

He didn’t have the chance, because a visitor appeared in the doorway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently at 22.5k words of this story. And there's no sign of it ending soon.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to say here. Another chapter, with Phillip being his bastard self. We didn't see much of business man Phillip in the show, but it's hinted that he's a dominating man, who squashes his competitors, like he did Gareth. I like it and I wanted to play with that a bit.

Julian looked at Gladys nervously. He looked about as awkward and uncomfortable as it was possible for the arrogant doctor to look.

“Mr Walford,” He greeted warily.

“Dr Lee,” Phillip replied with a smirk. He was enjoying the discomfort of the doctor greatly. Perhaps it was petty. But after everything Phillip had gone through, he figured he deserved a little guilt free schadenfreude.

“I’ll leave you two alone, shall I?” Gladys seemed to feel the tension in the room, throwing a suspicious look between the men. “Will you be alright, Mr Walford? Just page me if you need anything.”

He waved her off. He’d been looking forward to this moment.

As soon as Gladys left, Julian looked less disconcerted and finally met Phillip’s eyes.

“I think the surgeon came by already, to discuss the surgery?”

“He did, yes.” Phillip was in no mood to help him carry the conversation. He’d been bored and toying with his rival would keep him amused for a while. He was happy to stretch the interaction for as long as he could.

After all, messing with his opponents was one of his favourite games.

“Well, I don’t have much to add. The surgery went well and hopefully the pacemaker will mean less visits here. You’ll still need to learn to control your outbursts, of course.”

Dr Lee was feeling snarky too, it seemed. This was going to be _fun_. 

“And you, doctor? Have you learnt to control your emotions? Slept with any other patients’ wives lately?”

Julian’s stupidly sharp chiselled jawline clenched.

“Don’t you dare,” He growled, but Phillip just grinned. He was getting the reaction he wanted.

He pushed harder.

“Of course, my darling wife has been nothing but devoted. She’s even been sleeping here, with me.”

The bed that Cate had been sleeping in was still there, across from his in his massive room. It was one of the perks of being rich, having the biggest room and being able to have Cate stay, despite the hospital policy of no overnight visitors.

The hospital staff all knew about Bart and hadn’t dared throw her out. It had been generally accepted that while both her husband and son were here, she’d be too. A maid had brought Cate half her wardrobe and everything else she needed to set up home here.

It was a far cry from the wife who only visited to keep up appearances.

Julian looked as if he was about to snap, but he was too aware of being at work, with other doctors and nurses passing by the door. He couldn’t jeopardise his job.

Phillip held all the cards. And he knew it.

“Now, now, Julian, calm yourself. You don’t want to end up having a heart attack,” He taunted.

“You don’t deserve her,” He stepped towards the bed, lowering his voice.

Julian seemed to think Cate was some perfect woman, who could do no wrong. If only he knew the Cate that Phillip knew. She was far from perfect.

But Phillip couldn’t tell him that. It would lessen the triumph.

“And you do?” He raised an eyebrow mockingly.

“I treated her with more respect and care than you ever have.”

Phillip had respected her. He’d loved her. He’d been as besotted as Julian had been. Until his father had told him the truth. Everything that came after only destroyed their relationship more.

He’d always given her the respect she deserved. It was just that sometimes, the respect she deserved was none.

“And yet, she dumped you.”

Julian glared daggers at him, but Phillip was winning, so he pressed his advantage.

“That’s how it happened, right? She left you? Because she loves me.”

“God only knows why. You certainly don’t deserve it.”

“Everyone gets what they deserve, doctor. So, what did you do to deserve this, hmm?”

Luckily, Julian was saved from replying by the arrival of another visitor.

“I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”

* * *

Georgia was being discharged. And as much as she hated being stuck in a hospital bed, surrounded by noises and smells that made her want to vomit, she wasn’t sure she was ready to go home, either. 

“Where are you going to be staying?” The detective asked her.

She couldn’t say her childhood house. And she couldn’t say the cliff house. Both would be considered too unsafe – even if she knew there was no one after her. But she wanted to go home. She wanted comfort, where she could lick her wounds and heal in privacy. Yet the thought of being alone with her thoughts and pain made her sick too.

But she had no choice.

“I’m going to check into a hotel, under a fake name. Will that be safe enough?”

Detective Taylor seemed reassured by this, but promised to have police around to stand guard anyway. She wanted to tell them not to bother and to just leave her the hell alone, but she bit her tongue instead.

“Thank you so much, detective. I just don’t think I’ll ever feel safe again,” She said, tears welling in her eyes.

“It’s our duty to keep you safe, until we catch whoever did this.”

Leaving the hospital, Georgia was supplied with the strongest painkillers and care instructions for her stitches. She listened half-heartedly, while making sure to keep the prescription out of her mother’s hands.

She had enough to deal with without a relapsing mother. She’d almost been surprised her mother had stayed by her side throughout, and not been off stealing medicine from the patients.

“And don’t worry, Mrs Walford,” A well-meaning nurse assured her, “We’ll do our best to look after your husband.”

She smiled, and hoped it looked convincing as she was wheeled out the front doors.

Hopefully the name Walford would completely cease to exist before too long, dying out with the tyrannical father and weak son. 

* * *

“Cate,” Phillip greeted. He looked between his wife and the doctor, trying to find any hint of anything happening while he’d been asleep. Luckily, they seemed as uncomfortable as any ex-lover’s might.

Still, despite knowing she’d chosen him, he hated the idea of them even being in the same building. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to trust her. But she had cheated on him more times in the last three decades than he could count. He was sure there were times he didn’t know about and the thought ate at him. But they’d finally reconciled. That had to mean something.

“Are you alright?” She asked, leaving the doorway and walking past Julian without a glance.

Julian watched her, eyes never leaving her since she’d interrupted. Phillip would have to be blind to see the way he looked at her.

But she was _his_.

“I’m fine. The doctor here was just congratulating me on my success, weren’t you, Dr Lee?” When Cate looked at him, confused, he clarified, “By beating the odds and living.”

Julian had turned an enraged red. He looked ready to explode. Thankfully, Cate’s calm eyes turning to him had him mute.

“Thank you, Dr Lee, for all your work. We appreciate it.” She gave him a brittle grin.

“You’re welcome.” At least to her, he was still civil.

Phillip knew it was because he still thought he could get her back.

“I’m sure you’re busy, doctor. Thank you for stopping by.”

Whatever he wanted to reply, the presence of Cate stopped him and he left without another word.

“Phillip,” She said, with a warning tone.

“Yes?” He feigned innocence.

“Please don’t antagonise him. It’s bad for your heart and we don’t need anyone overhearing and reading anything into it.”

“I’ll be perfectly affable, so long as there’s nothing to read into.” He met her eyes, searching for any hint of feeling left for the doctor in them.

But he had trouble reading her. It had been a long time since he’d known her well enough to tell the lies he knew she was telling, from the lies he didn’t. Sometimes he wondered if she'd ever told him the truth. 

“I promise you, we’re over. I thought you and I...”

“We are,” He assured her. But still, his heart warned him to be careful.

* * *

Sophia arrived back at David’s house with a heavy sigh. She’d been beating herself up. The poor guy had been fired from the job he adored and she hadn’t supported him like she should’ve. But, with 24 hours between them, she hoped this visit might go a little bit smoother. She’d calmed down and hoped he had too.

“Hi.” He looked better than he had last time she’d seen him. He still hadn’t shaved, but the bags under his eyes didn’t look so heavy.

But she noticed his knuckles were bruised and bloodied. He’d clearly taken his anger out on a punching bag. Or at least, she hoped it was a punching bag.

“Hi. Can we talk?”

“Of course. Come in.” He looked wary, but stepped aside, letting her squeeze past.

They sat on the couch together, exactly as they had last time.

She noticed a few empty bottles littering the room.

Silence stretches until she finally began, “Listen, David, I’m sorry for not being there for you. At the barbecue and after. I know how much that job meant to you and I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I understand, you were angry.”

They lapsed into silence again. Instead of feeling like a weight had been lifted, she felt even more weighed down by his anger and the fear she’d felt. He’d genuinely frightened her, even if she knew she hadn’t really been in danger.

“Where’s Carrie?” She asked, if only to break the silence.

“She’s with my mum and dad. I didn’t want her around, seeing me like that. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see we’ve made up though. She won’t stop talking about how much she loves her new mum.”

Sophia smiled, even as she internally flinched. It had sat weirdly with her, how quickly David had introduced the idea of her being her step mum, even before they’d gone on a second date.

Although, they still hadn’t technically been on a second date.

Their courtship, such as it was, had been all backwards and upside down and she still hadn’t fully embraced the idea, try as she might.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said yes, at least not yet... Though she banished the thought as soon as it popped into her brain. She just hadn’t gotten used to it, that was all.

Still, as he walked her to the door and kissed her goodbye – unshaven face rubbing uncomfortably against hers – she could taste the beer on him and it made something in her gut churn.

* * *

Sandra still hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell Cate or Phillip that she’d quit. Between Bart still being in a coma and Phillip recovering from yet another major life saving surgery, she just hadn’t been able to find a suitable moment to bring it up.

Gladys sighed every time she saw her enter the hospital and was encouraging her to tell them, but Sandra didn’t have the heart – pardon the pun – to do it.

The letter she’d written, explaining everything, was sitting in the penthouse like a ticking time bomb. She’d go back and get it, to either shred or burn it, but she’d left her key behind when she’d left the last time. She hadn’t expected she’d ever be back there. She certainly wouldn’t be welcome, after he found out the truth.

She hoped Cate would be the one to find the letter. She knew the other woman would be furious to find she’d tried to confess to the Danny Grey lie, but at least Phillip could be spared that pain. Because, did he really have to know? Was her conscience worth his pain and anger? Especially in his condition?

She didn’t know if she could live with the lie on her shoulders, but if it killed him... She’d be crushed under the weight of the guilt and blood on her hands. She couldn’t take that risk.

So long as no one knew, except her and Cate, who could it hurt? Sophia and Phillip need never find out. It would be for the best, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, there's a lot of this story still to go. And I mean A LOT. I swear I started writing like, "I'll just write a quick, silly thing, to wrap it up. Maybe a few thousand words..." 
> 
> It was supposed to be a troll story, to show how stupid the ending had been. 
> 
> Turns out I'm incapable of writing anything but the most comprehensive of rebuttals to that train wreak of a last episode. Whoopsies.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No triggers for this chapter. Just full plot. I'm building towards some big plot points, so even if a scene seems inconsequential at the moment, it won't be.

He’d finished reading all of his usual newspapers and the usual books weren’t keeping his interest for long.

“Cate?” He asked.

She looked up from her own book. “Yes?”

“Do you happen to have my phone?” He’d kept forgetting to ask. He wasn’t one of the younger generations, who was constantly glued to it. Besides, he had other things to worry about.

They were talking about waking Bart soon and he was becoming increasingly anxious. His initial fear, worrying he might suddenly take a turn for the worse, had mostly subsided. The doctors were confident he was stable. But waking him would reveal the true extent of the damage. And Phillip was scared. He still hadn’t been able to see him – since a certain couple of nurses were forceful about his strict bed rest – but from Cate’s reports, he thought it was best not to. He didn’t know how he’d react seeing his only son, bandaged and barely alive. Cate had tried to be optimistic, but Phillip saw through it. 

“Yes, but it was broken during the panic. It was completely unsalvageable.”

“Can you get me a new one? I’m getting bored stuck in here. Maybe at least then I can play some solitaire and mahjong or something to pass the time.”

She nodded and grabbed her own phone, he assumed it was to order him one.

He settled back into the pillows. But, not for the first time since he’d been admitted, his thoughts turned to Sophia. He wondered how she was and if she was thinking if him too.

But then he looked at Cate and felt guilty again.

He turned back to his book and tried to immerse himself in the fantastic lands and complex characters, but his mind just wouldn’t stop wandering.

He sighed.

* * *

Bella was excited. She was also nervous. She was about equal parts excited and nervous and she’d spent half the day in the bathroom.

She’d never been on a date before. She’d 'dated’ a boy named Nicholas in third grade, but that had really just meant they sat together at lunch and shared snacks. They’d never so much as held hands. So, she didn’t think that counted. Not compared to this, a Real Date, with a guy she’d had a crush on for years.

Hence, the nerves. And excitement.

As soon as he’d asked her out, she’d known exactly what she wanted to wear and how she’d wanted to do her hair. But now, three hours of getting ready later, her hair was just getting frizzier with every new style and half her wardrobe covered her bed.

She was _maybe_ panicking a bit.

“Bella, Marc has known you for years. He knows what you look like. Calm down,” Her mother said, hands on her shoulders and voice coaxing.

“I know he knows what I look like. That’s why I’m surprised he asked me out in the first place.”

“You’re much too harsh on yourself. He asked you, for you. Just be yourself.”

She wanted to snap and tell Sophia that she could hardly be anyone else. She’d tried that for years, but it’d never worked. She’d always been the same old, ugly, boring, nerdy Bella, with few friends and fewer admirers.

Instead, she took a deep breath, handed her mum her hairbrush and politely asked for a hand with putting it into a braid. Maybe that could tame the crazy curls and witch-like frizz.

She might not be confident, but she was a survivor. She could do this. She slapped on her war paint in the form of make-up and paced, awaiting her envoy.

* * *

Mikael arrived at the hotel not long after Georgia. His scowl was impenetrable and he looked anything but happy to see her.

She’d be offended, except that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him either.

“Come in,” She greeted with a smile, nodding at the police guards stood down the hall. Mikael was on her approved guest list, but she knew the detective didn’t like it. Not that the detective seemed to like anything. 

As soon as the door shut behind him, the smile melted off her face as fast as she’d painted it on.

“You had one job,” She began, but he cut her off.

“You think it’s my fault that dumb fucker’s skull is so thick even a direct hit couldn’t kill him?”

She hadn’t been thinking of Bart. He was supposed to mildly wound her. Not this. Every thought, every movement she made, brought back the pain of her new reality. She was hurting, but the painkillers were helping.

But she wouldn’t show any weakness.

She sat on the bed, still too weak to stand for long.

“You should’ve shot twice.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be the target, remember? The assassin was supposed to be after you. It’s already suspect enough they had a perfect hit on him and not on you.”

She knew he’d hated her idea, but her ideas had all worked out so far. He worried too much.

“They don’t suspect me. I’m the victim here,” She brushed him off.

“Would you rather I have shot you again?” He was looming over her, looking intimidating.

She flinched at the idea, bile suddenly rising. She choked it back down. She wouldn’t be scared of him.

“No, but you had one job.”

“And I did it. Now, where’s my payment?” He asked, stepping closer to her.

She sat up straighter. It pulled on her stitches, making her grit her teeth.

“It’s still in his bank account.”

“Well, it better hurry up and find its way into mine, or we’re gonna have problems,” He warned her.

She scoffed. It was a bluff. She had dirt on him. If he tried to do anything to her, he’d find himself in big trouble.

“You’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

“Good. Because I’d hate to have to take my payment by force.”

There was a look in his eyes that truly frightened her, but she met his eyes without wavering.

“You’ll get it, even if I have to finish the job myself.”

* * *

Phillip was relieved when he was delivered his new phone. He’d only been in the hospital for a few days and already he was going stir crazy.

He turned on the new device to a deluge of phone calls, most from one number – Sophia Grey.

His heart began to speed up, so much he worried his new pacemaker was malfunctioning, before he realised it was his own reaction. It was apprehension and excitement and joy. More and more his thoughts had turned to her, but he hadn’t been able to see Sandra alone to ask after her. Either Cate or Gladys were seemingly glued to Sandra’s side, and no one but them knew the secret of who his donor was. As far as anyone knew, he and Sophia were almost perfect strangers. 

It was late on a Friday night, but he couldn’t wait to ring her. Cate was with Bart and all the nurses were elsewhere. It was the only chance he’d get.

“Mr Walford?” Sophia picked up on the third ring. “Are you alright?”

Hearing her voice suddenly washed a lot of his tension away. It was so motherly and warm.

He didn’t remember much of his own mother, but he felt like she’d made him feel as comforted.

“I’m fine. Had to have another surgery, but me, and my heart,” _Danny’s heart_ , “are fine.”

“I heard about Bart. I’ve been so worried. I hadn’t heard from you or Mrs Jones...” She sounded so concerned. It warmed him and he smiled. He hadn’t smiled since he’d gotten to the hospital. At least, not like this.

“Bart is stable. We don’t know the lasting damage yet, but he’s still here. He’s still alive.”

 _Unlike her son_. He flinched, fearful he was being insensitive, but he heard a sigh of relief come from the other end of the line.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Silence feel between them, but it was comfortable. They’d clearly been anxious to talk to each other. He didn’t know what that meant, but it meant _something_.

“I have something to ask, but I’m worried now might be a bad time,” She said, nervousness back in her voice.

“You can ask anything.” He was curious now. But it sounded a lot like the dreaded ‘ _we need to talk’,_ so he didn’t want to push too hard.

“I’m not sure...” 

“Would you feel more comfortable speaking face to face? I’m allowed visitors,” He suggested.

“I’d rather not meet at the hospital. Too many bad memories.”

That much, he could understand. He didn't exactly love hospitals either and he didn't have half as much reason to. 

“Alright. Well, I’ll be home in the next day or so. Will that work?”

“Yes. That would work.”

“Alright. Wonderful. I’ll have Sandra coordinate all the details.” And help him distract Cate. He didn’t want her around for whatever Sophia needed to say.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t told Cate yet. Maybe because it was still so new, this trust and bond they were building between them after so many years of outright animosity. He still wasn’t sure he trusted it. Maybe he never truly would. Still, he’d promised Cate he’d try. It just wasn’t that easy, after everything.

“Ok. I’ll talk to you later then.”

“Goodbye.”

The phone beeped and he dropped it into his lap. He felt both more relaxed and more tense than before. But at least Sophia had worried about him. He remembered, vaguely and without a specific memory, that they’d been talking before he ended up in the hospital. Maybe he’d said something? But what? He settled down, determined to get Sandra to set up that meeting as soon as she could. He couldn’t wait.

* * *

It was late. Not incredibly late, but it was past visiting hours and so the hospital was dark and empty, apart from the occasional night staff doing their rounds. The canteen was open to the overnight crew, but Cate had taken to sitting up there, alone with her thoughts. None of the employees bothered her. They all knew who she was and what had happened. They’d long ago gotten all the pity out of their systems. She might as well be a ghost now, for all the attention they paid her.

She still couldn’t bear to leave the hospital, worried if she did, the worst would happen. But sometimes being torn between the bedside of her two men had her feeling overwhelmed.

And so, she sat alone, with only her thoughts for company.

She startled to hear someone approach her. Looking up, she saw Julian, who looked apologetic.

“Hello, Mrs Walford,” He greeted, like they hadn’t told each other they loved them only months ago. “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Not at all, doctor.” She gave him her best attempt at a smile.

She hadn’t seen him around too many times in the time she’d been staying at the hospital. Apart from the occasional awkward looks and hellos shared in hallways, they hadn’t been forced to interact. She was relieved.

She wondered what had made him approach her now.

“Do you mind if I join you for a moment?”

“Of course not.” Looking around, she knew that no one would think it weird for her husband’s former doctor to be keeping her company. No one seemed to be paying them any attention at all.

He took the seat across from her and took a sip of his coffee. So, he must be in for the entire night then.

“I just wanted to ask after Bart. How is he?”

It warmed her that he cared enough to ask. Even if she knew it shouldn’t.

“He’s stable. They haven’t woken him yet, but they’re saying they’re hopeful the damage will be minimal.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Truly, I am.”

Their hands sat beside each other on the table, not touching. She thought about taking his in hers, missing his comforting touch, but she couldn’t.

“He’s a good boy. I wish you’d gotten to know him better,” She said, without thinking.

“Yes, well... Perhaps it’s for the best.” He cleared his throat and took another sip. “I’m also glad to hear Phillip is doing well.”

She looked at him, sceptical. He replied with a wry grin.

“Not overjoyed, but... I’m glad you still have them both.” The was a pause and a then a quieter, “I hope you can be happy.”

She could see how much her betrayal had hurt him. How much it still hurt him. But she’d made the right choice. She knew she had. Hadn’t she?

He smiled, and at a normal volume added, “Anyway, I’d better get back to work.”

“Alright. I’ll see you.”

She watched him walk away, feeling a mixture of feelings she couldn’t even begin to unpack.

Alone, she sat again with her thoughts.

* * *

“Sandra, can I have a moment?” Phillip asked, first thing the next morning. He glanced at Gladys and added, “Alone?”

The nurses shared a look, full of silent communication that went completely over his head. It ended with Sandra nodding at Gladys, giving the all clear.

“Of course.” She sat in the seat beside his bed, hands in her lap, looking unaccountably resigned for some reason he couldn't fathom. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I’m going to be discharged in a day or two and I want you to set up a meeting with Sophia Grey as soon as possible.”

Sandra’s face contorted into some expression he didn’t understand.

“Is this foundation related? Am I required? Because if so...”

“No. It’ll just be me and Sophia.”

She looked relieved. Phillip wondered if perhaps Sandra didn’t like Sophia. Had something happened between them? Maybe that was what Sophia wanted to talk about. Sandra had never seemed all that comfortable around the other woman, but he’d never really cared to wonder why.

“And I’ll need you to do me a favour and make sure Cate isn’t around for this meeting.”

“I’m not sure if I can do any of this,” She said.

“Why ever not?” He asked, brows furrowing. 

She paused for a long moment, before taking a deep breath and saying, “I quit.”

“You what?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna post up a second chapter at some point this week, because it's a hard week for a number of reasons.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a heavily Bella focussed chapter, but we get a bit of Phillip at the end, so don't worry. 
> 
> No triggers, except some angst.

The restaurant was fancy. Very fancy. Even in her best dress and what felt like inches thick make-up, Bella felt underdressed. Marc, in his dress shirt – which was tight across his muscled arms and chest – and chinos seemed right at home. 

The maître d greeted Marc warmly, as if they knew each other well, barely sparing Bella a glance. Although, when he did, it was a quizzical look. As they were led to their table, she could feel people’s eyes on them, clearly judging. She felt her skin beginning to redden and prickle, knowing what everyone was thinking. 

How did someone like _her_ , get someone like _him_? 

She wanted to disappear, be swallowed up by the Earth and never be seen again, but then Marc pulled out her chair for her, and gave her a breathtaking smile and she couldn’t be mad at the world anymore. 

She was finally on a date with Marc. She’d had a crush on him since the first time they’d met, about 5 years ago. He’d been her first serious crush and she’d never gotten over it. While a lot of Danny’s friends had ignored or teased her, Marc never had. He’d always been nice. And that was enough to make her fall for him. 

She’d never thought he’d ever notice her outside of being Danny’s kid sister. And she wasn’t sure why he had. She hadn’t even had the surgery yet. But she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“How’s your mum?” He asked, as they sat, perusing the (insanely expensive) menu. 

“She’s been a bit quiet lately. It’s all this Walford and David stuff. I’m a little worried about her, to be honest.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she fiddled with the napkin in her lap, just for something to keep them occupied.

She could barely even look Marc in the eyes she was so nervous. 

“You’ve both been through a lot. I know David’s having a tough time. It must be hard on her. And I don’t know what the club’s gonna do without him.” He launched into talking about the club and football in general. 

This was good. This helped soothe her nerves. But, while she tried her hardest to pay attention and be interested, she wasn’t her father or her brother. They could talk about football endlessly. She liked football – it had been a requirement in their house – she just wasn’t passionate about it. The fact the males in her life had lived and breathed it had alienated her. She’d almost resented it, for a time. But she’d found her own passion in music, something they’d never really understood. 

They’d loved each other, because they were family, but they’d not had much in common, besides DNA. 

Still, she listened and nodded along as Marc talked. She was lucky to be there at all. 

* * *

“I quit,” Sandra repeated, this time a little surer of herself. She wished she’d told Cate first or had Gladys there for backup. But this moment had been coming for a while. She’d dreaded it though, wanting to put it off as long as possible. But, time was up. 

“Why? When?” Phillip demanded. She was glad he was still bed bound and weak or he’d be truly terrifying. His blue eyes were cold and cutting. 

“I...” She hesitated. She thought of the letter, that had revealed everything about the Danny Grey lie and she panicked. She didn’t think she could tell him that. Not now, not to his face. 

She took the easy way out. 

“I’m not cut out to run a charity. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’m a nurse. I miss being a nurse.” 

That much was true. She missed caring for those who needed it. What she really wanted, and she really missed, was working with kids. Having her own experience with Thomas had shown her how much a nurse can make a difference to a sick or injured child and their family. She wanted to be that for someone else. 

“Do you need an assistant? A bigger budget? More _money_?” The last suggestion was said with venom, as if he thought money was all she cared about. 

She was angry at the very suggestion. She'd thought they'd moved past that.

She’d originally taken the job with Phillip because she’d needed the money. And the money had been fantastic, even before her unexpected career change and generous salary. But if it was all about the money now, she could’ve taken the dirty money he’d given to her transplant “contact" and run. But she didn’t.

She’d come to care about this infuriating man. And that’s why she’d had to quit. 

“It’s not about any of those things. I signed on to be your nurse. That’s all.” 

“Well, luckily for you, I’m about to be discharged in a few days and I’ll need a nurse again. At least for a week or so, until I’m back on my feet. We can discuss this more then.” 

She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream unintelligently, to release her frustration. But it wouldn’t help, so instead she nodded. 

“Fine," She huffed. 

“Good. Now, in the meantime, can you organise that meeting with Sophia?” 

She beat a hasty retreat before she could lose her cool. 

* * *

Marc’s football monologue lasted until halfway through their meal. Bella didn’t mind so much, at first. He seemed to be enjoying himself and it saved her having to think of anything to say. But by the time her salad (she’d balked at the prices and decided to go for the cheapest and healthiest thing on the menu) was half gone, she’d completely zoned out and hadn’t heard a word he’d said for a full minute. She'd nodded so much she felt like a bobble head. There was only so many football statistics and strategies she could pretend to be interested in. 

He seemed to sense that. Or maybe he just noticed that his steak (which looked and smelled delicious, but cost a small fortune) was getting cold. He trailed off with a small, sheepish smile. 

“Danny and I could always talk for hours about footy.” 

“I know,” She gave a tiny grin, “I always tried to join in, trying to get you to notice me. But I could never keep up.” 

“I always thought we couldn’t keep up with you. Us meat heads were always lost as soon as you started talking about anything academic. I was always pretty jealous of how smart you are," He confessed, uncharacteristically shy. 

“Really?” She felt her face heating up. She glanced down at her food and used her fork to chase a piece of tomato around the plate. 

“Really. And hearing you play? _Wow_. I couldn’t imagine being able to make music. I’m pretty sure I failed music, even in primary school when all we had to do was play the triangle. I'm afraid I have no sense of rhythm." He laughed and she relaxed a bit. 

“What kind of music do you listen to?” She asked, glad to finally have found something she could actually talk about. She’d have to rein herself in, to not get too carried away. 

“Oh. I don’t really listen to a lot of music. Usually only at the gym. I listen to a lot of EDM, ‘cause it’s got the fast beat, which makes me run faster.” 

She tried to stop the smile slipping off her face. She hadn’t exactly expected him to love classical music. She certainly hadn’t planned on him waxing lyrical about Beethoven or Mozart. But EDM? How could she reply to that?

“Did you know Danny used to be afraid of clowns?” She asked, deciding that changing the subject was the best option. 

“No way!” Marc laughed and she was glad they had the topic of Danny to fall back on. He was the common thread. But now she wasn’t sure what else they had in common. 

* * *

“Hi. Sorry to interrupt.” Sandra poked her head into Bart’s room. Cate was sat at his bedside, reading. 

Sandra was glad to see the bandages gone from Bart’s head and most of the bruising was gone. If she didn’t know better, and didn’t look too closely, it’d look like he was just sleeping off an illness, rather than having had a traumatic injury. But she knew the multiple surgeries and anxious hours Cate had spent, trying not to let Phillip know how bad it’d truly been. Cate had been adamant that he not know. 

Just another lie. 

“Hey, come on in,” Cate greeted, putting her book aside. She looked much healthier and like the well put together Cate Sandra had always known. Though, she still hadn’t left the hospital grounds, barely venturing outside the front doors. 

“Can I ask you a favour?” 

“Of course,” She replied, though she was looking and Sandra somewhat confused. 

“Can I borrow your key to the house?”

“Yes, but why? Where are yours?” 

“I must’ve left them at home. I'm forgetful,” She forced out a self-deprecating chuckle. She was a terrible liar. 

Luckily, Cate didn’t question it and handed over her keys without a second thought. 

It was crazy, how much trust they’d placed in her. Sandra thought of that little envelope and how she needed to destroy it, before it destroyed everything.

* * *

Sophia was awake, reading her book and trying to pretend she wasn’t waiting up for Bella when she heard their voices outside the front door. They were talking softly, probably trying not to disturb her, though it wasn’t late yet. It was barely 10:30pm. 

She heard the door shut and strained her ears to hear any signs that Marc had come in, but all she heard was a soft sigh and Bella’s heels on the hardwood floor. 

Staring at the book intently, she pretended she hadn’t noticed any of this. 

“Hey mum,” Bella groaned as she collapsed on the couch next to her. 

“Hey, darling. How’d it go?” 

Bella didn’t reply, except to scrunch up her face and shrug. She kicked off her heels and pulled her feet up under her on the seat. 

Sophia had expected Bella to be buzzing. She’d worshipped Marc for as long as she’d known him. Had he told her that it had all been a ploy to convince her not to get surgery? But she didn’t seem particularly upset either. She just seemed tired. 

“You don’t want to talk about it?” Sophia put her arm around her and tugged her to lean into her side. Bella’s head fell onto her shoulder and Sophia rested her cheek on her curls.

“Not tonight. Maybe we can just watch an episode of something mindless instead?” She suggested. 

“Sure. Whatever you want.” 

* * *

Phillip was finally allowed out of bed. In preparation for being discharged, he was testing his limits. But with supervision. 

Gladys was overseeing with a stern eye. 

“Don’t overdo it, or you’ll just make the pain last longer. And I know you’re desperate to get rid of me.” 

“I’m not a child and this isn’t my first time recovering from a major surgery.” He huffed at her, trying not to show how even the slightest hint of exercise – walking from the bed to a wheelchair – had left him winded. He knew she knew it though. He just didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of admitting it. He was acting like a child, but he didn’t care. 

He wondered how much more his body could take. He wasn’t getting any younger.

“Listen to the Gladys, she knows best,” Cate added, hovering beside him, as if she could catch him if (when) he fell. 

He didn’t reply to that, only frowned that all the women had clearly been conspiring against him. It was enough to make him paranoid. 

“Now I’m finally allowed out of this goddamn bed, I'm going to visit my son.” It wasn’t a question. If they wouldn’t help him get there, he’d get there on his own. It’d set his recovery back, but he needed to see Bart. Being kept from him had been nothing short of torture. Knowing he was just down the hall, injured and possibly dying had almost killed him. 

Cate and Gladys shared a long-suffering look, but they knew he wouldn’t be swayed. He was glad he wouldn’t have to argue. He didn’t know if he had the strength. It was killing him to have to concede defeat, even in an imaginary fight. 

So, they took him to see his son. 

His first glimpse of Bart had him stunned. He’d not really known what to expect. What he found was both better and worse than he’d imagined. Bart looked peaceful. But he was surrounded by medical equipment, beeping and humming and Phillip knew they were what had kept him alive. 

He promised himself he wouldn’t react. But as he gazed at his only child, looking so small and weak in his hospital bed, he couldn’t help the tears. He wouldn’t sob. He wouldn’t wail. But he let the tears silently fall in dignified silence. 

He was immeasurably glad both women let him be and didn’t mention it. 

Was this what he had looked like, after his heart attack? Was this what Danny had looked like, when Sophia had made the decision to let him go? 

He sat, staring at Bart, wishing things were different. They’d made amends after their falling out – at least, mostly – but he thought back to all the hurtful things they’d both said and was thoroughly ashamed of himself. He’d acted like his father. Something he’d always strived to avoid. But he’d failed in spectacular fashion. 

No wonder Cate had fucked his father. Phillip was becoming him at an alarming rate. Maybe that was why she’d finally decided to come back to him. The thought made him sick. 

Cate deserved a better husband. Bart deserved a better father.

“Can I have a minute with him, alone?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is one of my favourites. It's mostly Phillip. We'll find out a bit more about him and his past. Or, me expanding on what we do know and building some more around it. 
> 
> But, bring tissues.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of Phillip beginning to examine his relationships. There's a few things that he goes through in this chapter. He needs hugs.

Georgia hadn’t left her hotel room in days. She just couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to move off the bed. If it hadn’t been for her mother and room service, she was sure she would’ve wasted away.

She just couldn’t bring herself to care.

At least it looked good to the police, who had assumed she was taking the threat seriously, laying low and grieving for her grieviously wounded husband. 

They’d come by to ask more questions, but she’d just given them the same bullshit as always. She wasn’t going to risk any part of her story by changing it now. Of course, the longer the police went without a solid lead, the more they’d lean on her, badgering, as if she could suddenly remember seeing the sniper who attacked them from hundreds of metres away.

Hopefully they’d run out of steam soon, call the case unsolvable and just leave her the hell alone. She wanted to just go home and pretend none of this ever happened. But she wasn’t holding her breath.

She took another pain killer, which were running worryingly low (though, she’d kept a close eye on her mother and was fairly sure she hadn’t stolen any), and let herself drift into a dreamless sleep, to the background noise of daytime television.

* * *

Cate and Gladys left Phillip alone with Bart without a word. Cate just squeezed his shoulder where she stood behind his wheelchair, before she turned and left.

Once he was sure they were gone, he let out the hiccoughing breath he’d been holding in.

The longer he looked, the more he could see the wounds. The surgeons had done their best to make them as invisible as possible, but the missing patches of hair couldn’t grow back that quickly. There would be scars, of course, but when the hair grew back, he might almost look completely like himself again.

Though whether he acted like himself again was a different thing.

Phillip carefully took one of Bart’s hands in his, trying to avoid tugging on any of the wires or tubes. It was cold and limp in his grasp. It must’ve been decades since he’d held his hand. He remembered his tiny newborn hand, wrapping around his finger – barely making it halfway around. Then later, holding his hand when he’d broken his arm, falling off his skateboard.

Over the years, they’d grown apart. Bart may have worked with him and trained under him to one day take over the business, but he was much closer to his mother. And it had driven a divide between them. When he’d lost Cate, he’d lost Bart too. And that had hurt.

Of course, Bart didn't know the full truth of the rift between his parents and as angry as Phillip had been, as much as he wanted Bart on his side, he couldn't tell him the truth. That wouldn't be fair to him. So, he'd let Bart believe the best of his mother. 

It had been so long since the father and son had been close, he hadn’t realised his Bart's hands were now almost the same size as his. It seemed strange, to think of Bart as his own man, fully grown and with his own life. Phillip had been too busy to notice before. Too busy trying to mould him into what he wanted him to be. Now it hit him full force. Bart was a man and he’d made his own decisions and Phillip couldn’t protect him. All his money and influence couldn’t keep him safe.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Phillip wept.

He just hoped that when Bart woke up, he could forgive him. But he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself.

* * *

Sandra walked into the penthouse and was struck by how very little had changed in the time she’d been away. She shouldn’t be surprised by that, but she was. Of course, there was no one, except the staff, there to move or change anything. And she knew the staff would never dare change a thing and risk facing the wrath of an angry Walford. She’d been on the receiving end of an unhappy Phillip enough times that she could attest to how terrifying it could be. His icy blue eyes could chill a person.

But the place was pristine, with not a speck of dust to be found. It was almost eerie.

But another thing that wasn’t to be found was her resignation letter. It was gone from the table in the entrance hall where she’d carefully placed it as her parting gift.

Her heart began to race as she realised, she might already be too late.

* * *

“Good morning, sunshine.”

All Sophia got from Bella in reply was a groan, reminiscent of a zombie from a B movie.

“You ok?” She asked, pouring them both a cup of coffee. She suspected the smell was the only thing that had roused her daughter from her sleep 

Bella sighed and rubbed her face.

“I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

“Are you ready to tell me about your date?”

Another groan.

Now Sophia was really worried. Of her children, Danny had been the more monosyllabic, caveman grunt type of communicator. Bella was the well-spoken, not one to hold her feelings in type.

“What happened?”

Bella looked up at her, clearly startled by the change in her voice from ‘interested friend’ to ‘concerned mother’.

“Nothing bad happened.” She sat on one of the stools at the counter and took a sip of the too hot coffee. She grimaced as it burned.

“Then what did happen?” Sophia sat beside her and blew on her own mug to cool it down.

“Nothing much. It was just awkward.”

“All first dares are awkward,” She comforted. This had also been Bella’s first _ever_ date, which couldn’t have helped matters. And it had been important. Marc had been the object of her affections so long, the pressure to make the date go well must’ve been suffocating.

But Bella just shook her head.

“Not this awkward. This was uncomfortable even for me, and trust me, I know awkward.”

Bella may have had a point. She’d never been the most social of people. She had friends, but they were – as Miles had so beautifully demonstrated with the David fiasco – about as socially fluent as she was. Sophia wished Bella had inherited even a fraction of Paul’s easy-going nature.

“What was so awkward about it?”

“It turns out that we don’t have anything in common,” She said, taking another sip.

“I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

Her grimace told Sophia exactly what she thought of that, but she didn’t argue.

“Really, I’m sure Marc had a lovely time and he’ll call you to set up another one. Just you wait.”

“I’m not gonna hold my breath,” She shrugged.

Sophia hoped this didn’t damage her already fragile self-confidence. 

“Anyway, how’s David?” Bella turned the tables suddenly.

Sophia tried not to show her daughter how much she really, really didn’t want to talk about it. She took a sip of her coffee, buying herself time to answer.

“He’s alright,” She answered noncommittally. She hadn’t seen him in the two days since they’d made up from their... not fight, exactly, but their falling out. They’d exchanged messages, but she could feel things had changed.

The women lapsed into silence, thinking about the men in their lives and wondering what they should do next.

* * *

Sandra’s heart pounded as she bound up the stairs. The keys she’d left behind were in Cate’s study, exactly as she’d left them, but there was no letter to be seen. She frantically tore from room to room, searching for it.

She burst into Phillip’s study, breathing hard. On his desk was a huge pile of precariously stacked letters, presumably his mail to be addressed when he returned home. Unconcerned with the mess she was making, she rifled through, desperately searching for the one she needed.

Finally, her eyes found her handwriting amongst the stack and pulled it out with a full body sigh.

Holding it tightly, as if it might disappear if she didn’t, she took a deep, calming breath. She’d averted the disaster. But now she didn’t know what to do. Should she burn it? Shred it? Tuck it away somewhere, like Cate with her diaries, keeping it as a record of the truth, for when (not if) it all fell apart? She wasn’t sure. But she knew she couldn’t just leave it. She tucked it into her pocket and decided she’d deal with it when she got home.

She had to pack her bags and move back into the penthouse, whether she liked it or not. 

* * *

Cate and Gladys gave him plenty of time to grieve beside Bart’s bed. He had time to finish crying and wipe his tears before they appeared again, ready to take him back to his own room.

He found, despite having done very little, he was thoroughly exhausted. He was planning on a nap to heal his wounds, both physical and emotional.

Which was why he was so blindsided when Cate kissed him.

The women wheeled him into his hospital room and they helped him into bed, heedless of his protests.

Once he was settled again, Gladys gave him a sympathetic smile and left him and Cate alone.

She seemed quiet, sitting at his bedside, not looking at him, just staring into the middle distance with a strange, sort of pensive look on her face. He wondered what she was thinking, but he couldn’t ask. They didn’t have the sort of relationship where they shared that kind of openness.

They had, but that was many moons ago. _Before_.

When she finally snapped out of her thoughts and turned to him, she was looking at him softly. It made his heart skip a beat.

“I’ve been so worried about you both. But seeing you together again... I’ve never felt so relieved in my life.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this alone.”

Even seeing Bart how he had looked now, he could only imagine what it had been like, to see him bloody and bruised, not knowing if he’d survive. He honestly didn’t know if he’d have had the strength.

She stood and grasped his hand in hers.

“Thank you for making it through. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

The raw, open emotion on her face had him speechless. Two tears made their way down her pale face.

And then she’d leant down and kissed him. Or at least, she’d pressed her lips to his, but barely for a moment. He’d been too shocked to do anything. He was frozen, even as his mind raced.

He hadn’t kissed anyone in... decades. Since she’d cheated on him. Of course, there had been offers. Plenty of them. When she’d cheated, he’d been mid-twenties, handsome, powerful and rich. He’d toyed with the idea of giving her a taste of her own medicine. But he couldn’t. No matter how much she’d hurt him, he couldn’t bring himself to retaliate. At least, not in kind.

So, he’d pushed everyone away, sure that they’d eventually hurt him like she had. Over the years, there’d been plenty of men and women who’d wanted his money. Or his influence. Or just his body. Sometimes any combination of the three. Sometimes they wanted a passing thrill, sometimes they’d wanted a place at his side more permanently. But he never gave any of them the chance.

Even before meeting Cate, he hadn’t exactly been a playboy, as much as he'd pretended to be. He’d flirted a lot, of course. And he’d enjoyed plenty of attention. But he'd never taken any of it seriously. His few dates had been passing distractions.

And then he’d met Cate. And every other potential lover had ceased to exist. She was the illusive ‘ _One_ ’, or so he’d thought. Their relationship was fast, moving from meeting to marrying in record time. But it’d felt so right. Back then, he couldn’t imagine his life without her. He didn’t want to.

Then, two years after their wedding, almost to the day, Bart was born. He’d been so proud to be a dad. He’d worried he’d ruin it, like his own father had. But holding his tiny, beautiful boy, who shared his nose and his stubborn streak, he’d never been happier. He couldn’t imagine being any happier. It didn’t seem possible. He had the perfect wife and child. It was the dream.

He should’ve known his father couldn’t bear to see him happy. But Cate... Her betrayal had nearly killed him.

And now, so many years later, she was his beautiful, loving wife again. He should’ve seen the kiss coming. Wasn’t it what they’d been building towards? Their reconciliation had meant affection and closeness he’d forgotten how to receive.

The only other person who had touched him with kindness recently – and not because they were being paid to do so – was Sophia Grey. He still hadn’t fully unpacked that moment, when she’d placed her hand upon his heart. It had been too much to deal with, when he’d had so many other things happening.

He didn’t know how he felt. Except tired.

“I’ll... I’m going to go for a walk, alright? You get some rest,” She whispered, dropping his hand and backing away quickly.

She was gone before he could unfreeze himself and do anything.

Suddenly he felt even more weary, old and exhausted than ever before, yet he doubted sleep would find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Phillip is so confused and feeling so many things. He just needs a break, the poor guy. And this is only the beginning. He's got a lot to get through before this story is done.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're spending a little more time with Phillip and Bart, but also checking in with the Grey's.

“I’m moving back in with the Walford’s. I’m not sure how long for.”

“You aren’t, are you?” Her mother asked, disbelieving and frustrated. She was a calm woman. Usually. Sandra could count on one hand the amount of times she’d seen her lose her temper. This looked like a close call. And no matter how old she got, despite being a mum herself, being berated by her mother never got easier. She felt like she’d gotten detention at school again.

“I have to. They need me.”

“No. You know who needs you? Your son.” She was standing in front of her, arms crossed, as if she could physically block her from leaving.

Sandra didn’t need the extra guilt.

“I’m doing this for Thomas!”

“Are you? Are you really?” Her eyes had narrowed, looking at Sandra, judging.

She wanted to say that of course she was. She’d taken the job – a difficult, live away from home job, but a well-paying one – to provide for him.

There had been times, after Thomas’s accident, when she’d barely had enough money to keep the roof over their heads and food on the table. She’d gone hungry to keep food on his plate. He’d never wanted for anything, but it had often been at the expense of herself.

She’d reasoned that six months of Walford pay was more than she usually earned in a year. It was supposed to be enough for her to find a hospital or nursing home job, with regular hours, without having to run herself ragged.

She didn’t expect the job to extend, nor had she expected to be caught up in all their drama. But it had and she was. It was too late to pretend otherwise.

“I promise, this is only temporary and I’ll be home as soon as I can, I just... I need to.” The urge to apologise almost overwhelmed her, but she squashed it. She needed to be strong and not back down. 

Her mum didn’t look happy, but her frown turned into something sympathetic, before asking, “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“No. What do you mean? What kind of trouble?” 

“You're not sleeping with him, are you?” She whispered conspiratorially, as if there was anyone else around to hear.

Sandra wanted to laugh, but she knew if she did, she’d probably end up hysterically laughing or crying like a maniac. That would hardly help her case. 

“No, I’m not sleeping with him,” She said, emphatically. It would be so, so much simpler if she was. "Our relationship isn't like that. Not that I mean, a relationship, like a ' _relationship_ ' relationship. We're friends. Me, Phillip and Cate."

Her mother clearly wasn't convinced.

“Mum, I’m sorry to keep leaving, but one day, I promise I’ll tell you everything, alright? You need to trust me. Please.”

She appreciated her mum living with them, taking care of Thomas and looking out for her. She couldn't tell her the truth. She couldn't drag her into this mess.

“Alright. I can’t stop you. Just be careful. I don’t know what hold these people have got over you, but they’re dangerous.”

Sandra had told her mother about Bart and Georgia’s attack. Of course, she was concerned. But she didn’t have the words to explain that the real danger was more subtle than that.

Instead, she hugged her, kissed her cheek and went to pack all the things she’d only just unpacked.

* * *

Now that he was finally allowed out of his bed, Phillip demanded to spend at least an hour a day at Bart’s bedside. Once he was discharged, he wouldn’t be able to see him again for a while. He’d be on house arrest or as the doctors were saying, “bed rest". As far as he was concerned, it was the same thing.

He was sitting in his wheelchair at Bart’s bedside, alone, as Cate had gone to grab something to eat. He and Cate had been treading carefully around each other since the kiss. But, as was their tradition, they hadn’t talked about it. They were back to acting like strangers. He didn’t like it, but he also didn’t know how to fix it either. It felt like one wrong move would send Cate back into someone else's arms. It was just as much a tradition at this point. 

Sitting with Bart, he was bored. Again. There wasn’t much to pique his interest in this place. He always liked to keep his mind sharp, but without being able to work, he was adrift. There was only so much watching of monitors he could do, before it drove him mad. He’d mostly blocked out the beeping, at least when he had something else to occupy him. But sitting in silence by himself made them flood back into his awareness full force.

He grabbed Bart’s chart from the end of the bed. He knew it would all be in medical jargon and shorthand, not to mention doctor’s handwriting. His eyes automatically searched for any words he could make out. Of course, the patient name (Bart James Walford, just as he was Phillip James Walford. He couldn’t escape his father’s legacy, no matter how hard he tried), address (the penthouse), next of kin (still listed as himself and Cate, thank goodness. He didn’t want Georgia making any decisions) were all there, along with his blood type.

Phillip scoffed.

He quickly finished scanning the pages. Once he’d deciphered everything he could – which were all things he’d already known from his thorough interrogation of Bart’s neurologist – he put it back and resumed watching Bart ‘sleep'. It brought back memories of sitting by his bed as a baby, watching his chest move up and down, trying desperately to adjust to having a child and wanting to protect him against the world. He’d mostly let Cate be the hands-on parent, too scared he’d make a mess of it. He’d never held a baby until he’d held Bart. He’d been scared witless of dropping him.

He was glad to say he’d never dropped him and he’d changed more diapers than he could count.

He hadn’t been a _terrible_ father, had he?

It was only a few moments before his pondering was interrupted.

“Excuse me, Mr Walford?" A young, pretty nurse stood in the doorway looking nervous, bordering on afraid. "I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to check on Mr Walford. I mean, your son,” She corrected.

He used to like inspiring this kind of terror in people. His name, his stature and his money were intimidating. He'd cultivated that image on purpose. But sometimes it wasn't ideal, like scaring the woman who was supposed to be looking after his son. He was glad Sandra and Gladys had never acted like that. 

“Do I need to leave?” He didn’t have anyone to hand who could push the wheelchair. He doubted the tiny waif of a nurse could do it.

“Oh, no. That’s fine. It’s just a few vitals. Mrs Walford usually like a to stay and make sure they’re all stable.”

He nodded and rolled the chair back from the bed as far as his tired arms could push him. It wasn’t much, but it gave her room to move around the entire bed, should she need.

She went about her business, checking all the machines. She worked quickly and efficiently. He felt a bit uneasy watching her, so he broke the silence.

“What exactly are you testing?”

“All the basics, blood pressure, oxygen levels...” She rattled off numbers, grabbing Bart’s chart and making notes.

“I need to mention, and I’m sure you’re the correct person to report this to, but his blood type is wrong on that paperwork.”

“It is?” She was back to looking absolutely terrified.

He was trying not to sound too rude or angry, but he’d donated a lot of money to the hospital and his son deserved nothing but the best care possible. Anything else was an insult. 

“Yes. Can you please have someone check and change it, please?”

“Of course, Mr Walford,” She nodded and made a few more notes before scurrying back out of the room.

It wasn’t long before Gladys and Cate were there to take him back to his own room. He’d be discharged soon and he couldn’t wait.

* * *

Bella’s phone vibrated for the third time. She ignored it. She knew who it would be, after the last two messages.

She sighed. She just didn’t know what to say.

Marc was being nice. As he always was. But she knew, probably as well as he did, that they weren’t well matched. It wasn’t so much a case of letting him down easily, it was putting them both out of their misery.

“ _Hey Bella. I had a nice time last night_.”

There had been an hour gap before, “ _Did you want to go out again some time?_ ”

She looked at the newest message.

“ _No pressure though_ *smiley face emoji*”

She wrote a reply, thought better of it and deleted it. She locked her phone, put it down and picked it back up again.

“ _Hi Marc!_ ” Exclamation mark to show enthusiasm. “ _We should definitely hang out again some time_ ,” Hang out, rather than go out, to imply a friendly outing, rather than a romantic one. “ _I was thinking of having a going away party for Marti. What do you think?”_ She debated adding an emoji somewhere, since he’d used one, but she couldn’t decide what to use or where, so she hit send and hoped it was good enough.

She didn’t get an immediate reply, so she turned on the TV and tried to find something good to watch to keep her occupied.

* * *

Sophia was beside Bella on the couch, also on her phone. David had just sent her a picture of Carrie’s latest artwork. Carrie was into painting – her latest hobby - and David seemed pretty proud of how well she was doing and how much she’d improved.

Sophia was doing her best to be a supportive partner, expressing all the necessary enthusiasm. But other than discussing Carrie, she and David hadn’t been talking much. She’d apologised again, but David still seemed off and hadn’t even suggested another date. She didn’t know what that meant, but she didn’t want to push him any more than she already had. She remembered how angry he’d gotten and she didn’t want it to happen again.

So, she replied to his messages, hoping he’d understand she was sorry and giving him space, rather than avoiding him. She wasn’t sure how successful she was, but she was willing to wait for him to come to her.

Bella sighed from the other end of the couch and Sophia couldn’t help but mirror it.

She was trying to compose a text to David when her phone rang in her hand and nearly scared her half to death. She made some kind of squeaking/shrieking noise that in turn startled her daughter.

She looked at the caller ID to see Sandra Jones’ name. She’d been expecting her call since she’d spoken to Phillip the night before. But she’d also been dreading it. She was impatient to confront him about his lies, or to find out if they were actually lies at all, but she was also scared.

She hadn’t told Bella about the call, not because she was hiding it, but because she just didn’t know how much to tell her. She didn’t want her getting mixed up in the confusion of whether he had Danny’s heart or not. At this point, Bella didn’t know he’d told her he had Danny's heart. And she certainly didn’t know Sophia had received a letter from someone else who also claimed to have been the recipient.

To avoid any awkward questions, she ducked into her bedroom, closing the door before answering.

“Hello,” She used her most professional voice. It barely sounded like her at all.

“Hi, Mrs Grey. This is Sandra Jones, from the foundation.”

“I know. Phillip... Mr Walford told me you’d be calling.”

“Of course. Well, he wanted me to set up a meeting for you both. He’s available most of next week, if there’s a time that works for you?”

“Uh...” She paused. She knew his time was worth more than hers. She didn’t want to inconvenience him. She’d have preferred a time being suggested to her, rather than the other way around. “I’m working all week, but maybe I can pop by before work on Tuesday? Will that work?”

“That should be fine. Let’s say, around 10am?”

“Yeah. That works.”

“Wonderful. Mr Walford will see you then.”

It wasn’t until after she'd hung up, she realised Sandra had implied she wouldn’t be there. Was that a good thing? If she was going to confront him, maybe having an independent witness would be a good idea.

But she and Phillip had also formed a sort of strange bond. Would having someone else there only complicate things? She wasn’t sure.

She wasn’t sure of a lot of things and the more she thought, the less sure she felt.

She returned to the living room and curled up on the couch again.

“How’s David?” Bella asked, somewhat suggestively.

Sophia suddenly realised how it had looked, her darting out of the room to answer a call.

“He’s fine,” She answered, refusing to meet her daughter’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think you know where the blood type line of inquiry is going, you're probably right. Poor Phillip. 
> 
> We'll check back in with some other characters next chapter. Don't worry, no one's being forgotten. They're just being ignored for now. Because Georgia is the worst.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that features almost much every character. We're skipping all over the place. There's a lot happening.

Cate wasn’t sure what to do next. She hadn’t wanted to push Phillip. But they were husband and wife and the kiss had barely been a kiss at all. For God’s sake, she’d shared more passionate kisses with her Aunt Dorothy, who was one of those people who insisted on kissing everyone hello and goodbye and not thinking it odd to kiss family members on the mouth. Cate had always tried to avoid any gatherings which featured Aunt Dorothy.

But Phillip had looked like he’d been hit over the head, all stunned and befuddled. She’d immediately regretted it, but it was too late.

She’d just never seen him so emotional and vulnerable as he’d been, holding Bart’s hand and crying. After years of thinking any tenderness in him was gone, it had shocked her. And she’d dared to hope that maybe one of the feelings buried inside was his love for her. He’d loved her once. Couldn’t he do it again?

But she’d rushed in, hoping to coax love out, while his heart was still open from Bart. Instead, she’d overwhelmed him and shut him off further.

It was frustrating. She hadn’t gone this long without so much as a kiss since... since he’d found out about her and his father. Since then, she’d had a string of infidelities. She’d always been the kind of person who needed someone. And if Phillip couldn’t forgive her, she’d find someone else. And she had.

But she’d never loved any of them liked she’d loved Phillip. Not even Julian, though he’d been the closest.

Speaking of Julian, she’d seen him around the hospital every so often. And, having sat with him, talked civilly and worked out the awkwardness, she didn’t mind saying hello or sharing a smile. He seemed alright. Not angry or heart broken.

She was glad. Things had worked out for the best, hadn’t they?

* * *

“Sandra, are you alright?” Gladys found her sitting in the waiting room, staring at her cup of tea, wondering what she was doing.

She’d just hung up the phone, from her call to Sophia Grey, setting up the meeting Phillip had requested. They were going to have some kind of secret meeting. She had no idea what it was for or what it meant and that scared the shit out of her.

“I think so. Maybe.” She shrugged.

Gladys looked around and, satisfied no one would see her slacking off, sat beside her.

“I know you haven’t told me everything that’s happening with you and the Walford’s. And I’m not asking you to tell me. But, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“I wish I could tell you everything. God, there’s so much... But a lot of it isn’t mine to tell.”

“Are you in danger?” Gladys looked concerned. She reminded Sandra of her mother in that moment. They didn’t look alike, but the expression was the same.

Sandra laughed.

“Yes, but not in the way you think. There are lies that are going to come to light and when they do... I just hope Thomas is looked after. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“My dear, I know whatever you’ve done has been for him. But what have you last done for you?”

“Nothing.”

“Mr Walford will be going home in a few days, and I’m sure he keeps you busy. So, until then, I want you to get some rest and look after yourself. Don’t just sit around here. If they need you, they’ll call you. But I’m sure they can live without you for a day or so. Get out of here and breathe.”

Sandra considered it. She wasn’t really needed at the hospital. She could go home or she could go back to the penthouse. She wasn’t sure which was worse. She just wanted to go somewhere with no stress or obligations. No one asking any questions or asking her to keep their secrets.

She hadn’t been as bad as Cate, not leaving the hospital for the week and a half since Phillip and Bart had both been admitted, but she’d definitely spent more time than not there. She couldn’t deny she wanted to get out.

“Go get a hotel room for a night. Go to the beach. Get a massage...”

Gladys's voice faded away as she remembered her desire for a nice, hot stone massage. There had to be a massage place around here somewhere.

“Thanks, Gladys. You’re a life saver.”

Gladys patted her hand encouragingly and stood up.

“I’d better get back to work, but I better not see you around here for at least 24 hours, alright?”

Sandra nodded, grabbing her stuff, headed straight out of the hospital in search of peace.

* * *

Phillip was visiting Bart for the last time before he was to go home. Bart’s condition hadn’t changed, but the doctors seemed to think that was a good thing.

“When are you going to wake him?” Cate was asking his doctor.

“We’re going to do another MRI and x-ray on Thursday. All going well, we’ll bring him out of the coma whenever you’re ready.”

“Can we be here when he wakes up?”

“Yes, you’ll just need to be prepared for him to not act exactly how you’d expect him to. He’s been through a lot...”

Phillip tuned the doctor’s voice out as he discussed the potential outcomes. They’d heard it all before. And he knew Cate had spent hours researching brain injuries online, working herself into knots about it. She was an emotional person. Always had been.

Whereas Phillip wasn’t going to worry until they knew exactly what the injuries had done to him. He didn’t see the point in stressing himself unnecessarily. Besides which, he had direct orders from multiple doctors telling him not to stress.

He refused to think about who his son might be when he awoke. He’d read all the doctors notes and listened to the facts, but any speculation was, he thought, entirely unhelpful.

Still, he couldn’t help but re-read Bart’s chart. He was frustrated to see his blood type was still wrong. He turned to tell Cate and the doctor, but they’d disappeared to who knew where.

He huffed.

He was glad that not long after he'd been abandoned, Gladys came to escort him back to his room again, right on the hour. She was strict and while he still didn’t particularly like her, he had to admit she was a competent nurse. And both Cate and Sandra liked her, so he couldn’t yell at her without upsetting them both. It was definitely not in his best interests to upset them. He'd never hear the end of it.

She walked beside him, carefully pretending not to be watching him, in case he fell. He was walking with a cane now, rather than being confined to a wheelchair. It wasn’t much, but it was progress and made him feel far less useless and like an invalid.

He was too busy concentrating on keeping his balance and too busy struggling to breathe to have any conversation as they made their way back to his room down the hall. But as soon he collapsed onto his bed and caught his breath, she handed him a glass of water – which he eagerly gulped down – and asked, “Is there anything else you need?”

“Can you please tell whoever is in charge of updating client files to fix Bart’s blood type? I asked a young nurse a few days ago, but it hasn’t been done.” He tried not to be too annoyed by it. The young girl had probably forgotten or hadn’t known who to ask. Gladys, as a senior member of staff, would be able to fix it.

“Is there something wrong with it?” She looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes. It’s got him listed as AB+, but he’s an A+, like his mother.” It had been a long time since science class, but even Phillip knew that his type, O+, was recessive and Bart had inherited his mother’s type.

Gladys looked perturbed for a moment, but shook it off and said, “I’m sure it’s just a typo. I’ll get it fixed up, no problem.”

“Good. Now, do you know where Sandra is?”

* * *

Jane Forbes had been texting Sophia periodically, hoping for news. Or at least, that was what Sophia assumed she wanted. She made out as if she was just checking in, but Sophia knew they weren’t friends. She didn’t distrust journalists exactly, and Jane had been perfectly nice so far. Phillip seemed to approve of her, and he was notorious for disliking and avoiding the media. This Sophia knew from her research into him. She’d felt somewhat guilty Googling him and trying to figure out who he was, but after meeting him and having him name the foundation after Danny, she couldn’t help but be intrigued. Especially after Bella’s warning to be careful around him, not that she’d admit that it had gotten to her.

She’d found some interesting information. And, of course, some tabloid gossip. She wasn’t sure what was fact and what was fiction, so she approached every story with caution. Mrs Walford was painted badly in almost every article, with her name attached to more men than Sophia had ever even met. Cate had far more written on her, at least in mainstream media, than Phillip did. Phillip’s company featured heavily in financial news, but his personal life was mostly left to the imagination. It wasn’t a satisfying answer to Sophia’s curiosity – it got her no closer to knowing if he’d lied about being the heart recipient – only serving to make her more fascinated by him.

But still, Jane persevered. Sophia did the only thing she could think of.

“Hi Jane. I’ve spoken to Phillip. Both he and Bart are recovering well. Bart’s still in a coma, but they’re hopeful.” She hoped that was general enough to keep Jane off their backs for a while.

* * *

Georgia had run out of painkillers. She’d searched the entire hotel room, but there wasn’t a single pill left to be found. She couldn’t quite remember, her memories fuzzy, but she thought the doctor had said they would last two weeks. But it had only been a week. She stared at, then shook the empty bottle, hoping for answers, but none appeared.

She thought about calling the doctor and asking for a refill, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to seem like some kind of junkie. She wasn’t her mother, doctor hopping until she got what she wanted.

Instead, she picked up her phone.

“Hey!” It wasn’t until she spoke that she realised her voice was slightly slurred. She couldn’t bring herself to care though.

“What is it?” Mikael sounded annoyed.

“That’s no way to greet a friend,” She jokingly admonished. She vaguely remembered them arguing, the last time they spoke, but surely one little argument wouldn’t stop him helping her?

“Are we friends, because –”

She cut him off.

“Of course, we are!” She giggled. “And as my friend, I need you to do me a _huge_ favour.”

“I haven’t been paid for the last favour I did for you.” Now he sounded angry. She didn’t like it.

“I know, I know! And I’m sorry, I really am. I’m gonna get it to you as soon as I can. I promise.”

“I’m not sure your promises mean shit.”

“I pinky swear.”

There was silence. She bit her lip and waited.

He sighed, “What is it?”

“I’m out of painkillers and I need some more. I think maybe my mum stole some? Can you bring some for me? Pretty please?” She was batting her eyelashes and pouting, but of course, he couldn’t see it.

She was too out of it to notice.

“Fuck. Alright. What do you need?”

She giggled and happily read him the labels of her bottles.

* * *

Bella had been texting Marc on and off, trying to be friendly, but not overly so. Despite how awkward their date had been, he wasn’t reluctant to message her. In fact, he was so sweet, she sometimes started to reconsider if she shouldn’t give him another chance. After all, her mum might’ve been right. One date could hardly prove whether or not they were a good fit. She shouldn’t make such rash decisions. He was, by all measures, too good for her. So what if their date hadn’t been perfect? He was and she’d have to be a fool not to pursue him.

But still, the doubt at the back of her mind lingered. She gently rebuffed his invitations to go watch him train, if only to avoid the player who she’d overheard him arguing with at the barbecue. She couldn’t sit in the stands and pretend to be someone she wasn’t. She wasn’t, and never would be, a WAG. Not even once she’d had her surgeries.

She still hadn’t rescheduled the surgery. But she was going to, she swore. No one, not her mother, not some rich guy, no one, was going to persuade her otherwise.

“ _I was thinking we could meet up some time this week?_ ” Marc asked.

She hesitated, not sure how to let him down again, without completely ruining their entire relationship. But then an idea suddenly occurred to her, so perfect she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the two of you who are actually still reading this ♥


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We spend some time with Bella and Marc.

Sandra had taken her worries with her, as she’d left the hospital. She’d tried her hardest not to, trying to take Gladys' advice to heart, but when her entire world felt tenuous, it was hard to just leave it behind.

Still, she couldn’t deny the walk along the beach, the hour-long massage and the cheeky midday nap at the cheap motel had done wonders. It felt like a vacation, so long as she didn’t let the negative thoughts get too loud.

She knew she couldn’t escape the predicament she’d gotten herself into. She couldn’t forget the letter, tucked away in a sealed pocket in her bag. And she worried that at some point, the consequences would catch up to her.

But for a few hours, she did her best to forget and it was enough. She returned to the hospital, ready to take Phillip home and get him settled back into normal life.

It wouldn’t be long before she could recede back into her boring, regular, uncomplicated life.

* * *

Phillip was free. Or, not free exactly, but confined to his house, which – after being stuck in the hospital for a week and a half – felt like a huge freedom.

He laid back in his bed, in his bedroom, in his house, and sighed. It was good to be back in his own domain. It would be better once he could get back to work, but he knew Cate and Sandra wouldn’t be letting that happen for another week at least. For some reason, they were immune to both his demands and his charms.

It was infuriating.

Cate had accompanied him home, finally leaving the hospital, but he could see she was torn. Her eyes shifted to her phone, to the door and her movements were nervous. A few months ago, he would’ve thought it was because she had a new lover she was desperate to see. Now, the thought barely even crossed his mind. It was funny the effect only a few months could have. Habits maintained over decades were changing slowly but surely.

He wanted to reassure her Bart would be fine without her by his side for a few hours, but he knew logic had no place in her anxiety. It wouldn’t make a dent.

Instead, he took her hand. She stilled and looked at him, eyes wide. They hadn’t touched since she’d kissed him.

“You can go back to the hospital, if you want. I’ll be fine here, I promise. Sandra can call you if we need you.”

Sandra nodded her agreement from the doorway, where she was hovering, having helped Phillip into the bed and now awaiting any orders. Or requests. He wasn’t sure when his orders had become requests, but they had.

“Are you sure?”

Sandra nodded again and Phillip squeezed her hand comfortingly.

“One of us should be there. You let me know how he is. And if something changes, you should be there.”

He wished he could be there too, but he’d been told by his new doctor, George Stone, that he was on strict bedrest and not to even think about doing any sort of strenuous activity. He didn’t know why working or visiting his son were included in that list, but apparently they were. The list was enforced by both women and they wouldn’t budge. And if he so much as stepped foot in the hospital, the doctors and nurses would kick him out again. He just knew that Gladys especially would take delight in sending him away, banishing him back to his bed.

He let go of Cate’s hand and she pulled it to her chest, cradling it in her other hand. She still looked conflicted, so he gave her a smile and a nod. It was apparently enough, because she nodded too.

“If you need me, I’ll have my phone with me. Let me know if he’s not behaving himself.” The second half was said directly to Sandra, and he wanted to protest, but Cate was smiling – a small, tentative smile, but a smile nonetheless – which was too rare these days that he couldn’t bring himself to ruin it.

He’d become soft, something he’d never wanted – and couldn’t afford – to be. But it had brought Cate back to him. And it was thanks to Danny, which had also brought the incredible Sophia Grey into his life.

He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about Sophia and Cate in the same breath. It made him feel guilty, even if he’d done nothing wrong, technically. Telling Cate about Danny being his donor just didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t as if he was lying to her. It was just a simple matter of not having told her yet. He would. Eventually. Probably.

Besides, he wasn’t sure himself what it all meant yet, but Sophia made him feel things he couldn’t rationally explain. He was hoping his meeting with her in a few days would help shed some light on it. A sort of nervous excitement filled him in anticipation. The next few days couldn’t pass fast enough.

Having seen him safely home and making sure he didn’t need anything else, the ladies left him alone again to rest. But his mind was too active to let him rest. He picked up the newspaper and wasn’t surprised to see his own name, and Bart’s, among the headlines.

‘ _Sources close to the family say…_ ’ He growled. He’d need to speak to the hospital about that.

First the blood type mix up, now this? He was not happy.

* * *

Sophia watched Bella getting ready to go out with Marc again. It stood in stark contrast to the last time in that it had been organised last minute, was after dinner and she’d only put on her usual amount of make-up. She was wearing casual clothes and had tied her hair into a bun. She looked nice, and she’d made an effort, but it was by no means the same effort she’d put in last time.

“Where are you guys going?” Sophia asked, intrigued.

But Bella shrugged, “Not sure. Probably just hanging out at his place.”

Sophia didn’t want to be a worrying parent. But she didn’t like the idea of Bella going out and not telling her where she was going to. Last time she hadn’t kept an eye on where her children were, Danny had gotten himself into a situation that had gotten him killed.

But she forced herself to calm down. Bella was smart and Marc was a good man. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. But just in case...

“Do you have...” She trailed off.

Bella looked at her, clearly baffled. “Have what?”

“Protection,” She clarified.

Bella’s face morphed into something shocked, horrified and embarrassed.

“Mum! No!”

“Listen, I’m not judging. You’re young, you like him, there’s nothing wrong with that. I just want you to be safe.”

“Ok. First of all, no. Second of all, no. Third, I’ve been on the pill since I was twelve for my acne. And fourthly, no.”

“Alright, alright. Calm down.”

Bella still looked vaguely traumatized, but she didn’t say anything else. She just pulled on a jacket and grabbed her bag.

“I’m not sure what time I’ll be home, but I’ll try not to be too late.”

“Have fun!” She yelled after her.

The door shut and left her in silence. She sighed. She didn’t want to be alone, but she also didn’t want to see anyone.

She picked up her phone. She hit his contact and waited while it rang three times.

“Hi. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you –”

* * *

Bella arrived at the field first. She made her way towards the goal posts at the left side and sat in her usual spot.

She shivered and wished she’d grabbed a warmer jacket. But it wasn’t unbearable, so she didn’t go back to the car to grab the blanket she kept in the back.

She was too busy staring at the goal posts and thinking about how much she missed her brother she didn’t hear Marc coming until he was almost beside her.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

He dropped down beside her without another word.

They sat in silence. It surprisingly didn’t feel awkward, which Bella was thankful for. She’d worried that after their date they wouldn’t be able to see each other without shifting eyes and nervous movement.

But they sat there companionably.

She began to play with some blades of grass, but she knew better than to tear them up. The oval needed to be in peak condition at all times for matches and for training. She’d made the mistake, as a little girl, of pulling up some spots. She’d been sternly told off. She could remember the bald patch on the field as she’d watched her dad play and the flush of shame she’d felt. It still made her feel awful.

“How are you?” He asked after a moment.

“Alright. And you?”

“Better, now that I’m here.”

She didn’t know how to reply to that, so she stayed silent.

“You’ve been a bit quiet recently.”

“I’ve been busy, with uni starting next week.” It was a weak excuse, but he didn’t call her on it.

With a sigh, Marc fell backwards, laying on the ground, staring up at the sky.

“Lay back and relax. Uni and worry can wait.”

She looked back at him and saw him staring at her. If only for something to do, she lay back too. They had a bit of space separating them, but she felt somewhat exposed and vulnerable, even laying with him, out in the middle of the field. It felt intimate, but not entirely uncomfortable. She was glad he couldn’t see her face as she blushed.

“Danny and I used to chill out here sometimes after practice. Just sit and talk. About anything and everything. He was always a great listener.” His voice softened then, as he said, “I miss him.”

“Me too.” She was tearing up and she fought them back. It had been more than a year. She’d thought the tears were done. She’d certainly cried enough of them.

“You two are more alike than I think I ever really realised, until we started to hang out,” He said, “He was always so kind to everyone, even me.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I first joined the club, some of the guys were pretty rough on me. Called me some pretty racist things. But Danny just ignored them and befriended me. And because they loved him, they had to learn to tolerate me too and he knew it. He knew what he was doing. He was my best mate.”

“Danny always did root for the underdog. If we hadn’t been a diehard Swan family, he probably would’ve been a Kangaroo supporter.”

Marc laughed and Bella felt like she’d maybe been too hasty, thinking they couldn’t work.

“He always made me want to try to be a better person. I think, since he’s been gone, I’ve forgotten that a bit. But then I saw you with Marti, forgiving her after everything, and I remembered Danny, never giving up on anyone.”

“Until he gave up on himself,” She added. She’d known how devastated he’d been, losing AFL. And she understood – even though he’d never said it – that he felt like he’d let their dad down. Danny had idolized their dad. But he’d been dead for a long time. Danny was punishing himself for letting down a memory.

She wished she’d talked to him, though it wouldn’t have made a difference.

“He was lost without the club.”

“But he shouldn’t have done what he did.”

“I’m not making excuses. I wish he hadn’t done it either. I tried to stop him...” He’d raised his voice, but seemed to realise it and stopped himself. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

“I’m glad I have you to talk to. About him.”

“Me too.”

They lapsed back into silence.

“I like you, Marc. You know that. You’ve probably known it for years.” She glanced over at him. He guiltily nodded. She looked away again, trying not to feel too embarrassed. “And I’m glad to have you as a friend.”

“A friend?” He interrupted.

“Yeah. I like hanging out with you, but we’re obviously not suited, romantically.” She giggled nervously.

“Oh, yeah. No, of course.” He laughed too, but it wasn’t like the happy, carefree laugh of before.

In the silence that followed, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. The ease between them had disappeared and her stomach clenched. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything.

“Anyway, it’s getting late. Maybe I should head home.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

He stood up and offered her his hand, which she took. He held it a second longer than he needed, and leaned in to give her another kiss on the cheek. They have each other nervous smiles before parting ways.

She knew she’d done the right thing, but she hadn’t expected his reaction. His wasn’t upset about being turned down, was he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was late. Things have been busy over here.


	14. Chapter 14

Mikael arrived at the hotel and was thankfully ushered past the police with only a cursory inspection. They knew him and for some reason, they trusted him. Just like Georgia.

He would’ve laughed if it wouldn’t have made them suspicious.

Speaking of Georgia, she greeted him at the door eagerly.

“Did you bring it?” She asked.

He glared and kicked the door shut, making sure it was closed before he hissed, “Shut the fuck up. Do you want us to get arrested?”

She glared at him, but the effect was ruined when he tossed the bag of drugs at her and she descended on it like a pack of hungry wolves. She took a tablet or two, he wasn’t sure, before he could even blink.

He’d slightly doubted her story of her mother stealing them before, but now he was certain. He knew enough addicts to know the glazed eyes, the shakes of the withdrawal, the manic excitement of a new hit.

It was almost sad to see her that way, except he knew he could use it to his advantage.

“I’m not a drug dealer,” He said, kicking off his boots and settling comfortably on the bed. A sober Georgia would’ve kicked him off. But this Georgia didn’t seem to care all that much.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. But I’ll pay you.”

“That’s not the fucking point. And you still owe me anyway. What makes you think I trust you to pay me now?”

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed for her bag. She knocked all her things off the bedside table in the process, but she didn’t even flinch. She pulled out her wallet and handed him a bunch of $50 notes.

It was more than he was going to ask for, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He pocketed it with a grin.

“Now, about the other debt –“

“They’re waking him next week. Hopefully he’ll be brain dead, I can flick the switch and boom, the money’s mine.”

“You can’t just be that casual about it. If they get suspicious...”

“You worry too much. I’ll act the heartbroken spouse. They’ll never suspect a thing.”

He knew, from his own discussions with the police that they did suspect a lot. In the space of a year, she’d lost her dad, exposed a priest for blackmail and her father for incest. The shooting happening so soon, so targeted, was bound to have them asking more questions than he felt comfortable with.

But, as much as he was getting sick of her drama and shit, he couldn’t just cut and run. He wanted his money and she couldn’t be trusted not to fuck everything up and reveal too much.

He needed to watch her. And now he knew her weakness, he could hold it over her. Junkies would do anything for their next fix.

* * *

Phillip was having trouble getting to sleep. His room was too quiet. After a week of having nurses bustling around and beeping machines beside his bed, the total serene quiet of his room, high above the hustle and bustle of people was unnervingly calm.

But more than that, he missed Cate. They hadn’t slept in the same bed for decades – except for that one unexpected nap – yet he found he missed having her sleeping across the room. Having her there, breathing softly, looking soft and beautiful as she slept, had helped him heal.

Maybe his heart really had changed him. He’d never been this sentimental before.

He thought about turning on the TV, since it had worked last time he came home from the hospital. But it just wasn’t the same as having someone there with him. He knew if he asked Sandra to come in and talk for a while, she would. But what would they talk about? The foundation? Danny Grey? Sophia Grey? Cate? All things he wasn’t sure he even knew how he felt about. Sandra had become a trusted and loyal worker and even confidante. But even then, he couldn’t trust her with everything.

He had too many secrets. Things Cate didn’t know. Things Sandra didn’t know. Things Sophia didn’t know. He didn’t like secrets. He preferred other methods of manipulation. But he couldn’t bring himself to reveal all. Not until he knew more.

There was no one in his life he could fully, 100% trust. Everyone he’d ever trusted had, in one way or another, betrayed him. His father had abused him. His childhood friends had used him for money. Cate had broken his heart. Gareth had been a business associate, who had used Cate against him. Other business partners had sold secrets, started rival companies, botched important deals... The list went on. His own doctor had tried to steal Cate away from him. Sandra had quit – though he was determined to talk her out of that. Even Bart, who he’d loved and would hand the empire to, had chosen Georgia over his family and legacy. He’d accepted Bart and Georgia, however grudgingly. And as soon as Georgia proved herself unworthy, which he knew she would, he'd convince Bart to leave her. 

But now, he was trusting Cate again. Sandra was back as his nurse. And Sophia had readily accepted his friendship. He had people he could love and trust again. Yet somehow, he felt like it all might collapse out from under him.

He rolled over and closed his eyes, trying to push all the doubts away and finally rest.

* * *

David was at Sophia’s door faster than she would’ve thought possible. He’d jumped at the chance to come over and see her. She felt guilty for having neglected him for so long. She’d been trying to give him space, but apparently she’d just been ignoring him instead.

“Hey, gorgeous,” He greeted, hugging her as soon as the door was open enough for him to fit through.

She hugged him back, glad he wasn’t too annoyed at her.

“Hi. How’ve you been?” She asked.

He pulled back and she could see he was looking better.

“I’ve been alright. Better for seeing you.” He grinned. His smile was the old familiar smile she’d known for years. It was clear the depressed, tired David was just a reaction to losing his job.

She ushered him in and grabbed them both a beer, before they settled on the couch. They talked for a while about Carrie. The holidays were almost over, so she’d be back to day-care soon. Sophia was looking forward to seeing her, though she slightly feared the reactions to Carrie telling the other kids that she was going to marry her dad. After last time, she worried it might make things awkward again for Carrie. And for her. But she had to face the music at some point. And it would only be a few more months before Carrie was to start kindergarten.

“She’s going to miss seeing you every day. At least, until we move in together.”

For some reason, the idea of them moving in together had never actually occurred to her. She felt stupid, but she’d never really thought through the practicalities.

She’d been busy with other things.

“Are you going to move in here?” She asked. It seemed logical, since her house was bigger. David and Carrie hadn’t needed the same amount of space as her, Paul, Danny and Bella. She supposed Bella could move into Danny’s room, since it had the kitchenette and en suite. Which meant Carrie would have Bella’s current room. It seemed like a lot of work, shifting the whole house around, but they couldn’t give Carrie Danny’s old room.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” He began, sounding serious.

It had her immediately on edge.

“You have?”

“Yeah. I mean, since I lost the job at the club, I was thinking about making a move. There’s way more footy clubs in Melbourne and we could start our new life together fresh, down north.”

He was looking at her, clearly awaiting a reaction. His smile told her he was expecting a positive one.

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to leave this house, with all the memories it held. And she liked her job. Besides, Bella was at university here in Sydney.

“I’m not sure. I mean, Bella and I have a lot going on here...”

“That's ok. You don’t have to decide right now. The club in Melbourne has given me some time to think about it.”

“You’ve already had an offer?”

“Yeah. It’s a good one too. Good pay, some perks. It’ll be good, to support you if you want to stay at home with Carrie.”

The conversation had taken some turns quickly. She was feeling almost dizzy with it. Maybe she’d been behind in thinking about the practicalities of married life, but David had obviously picked up the slack, planning their entire lives.

“I... I’ll need to think about it.”

“Of course. And you wouldn’t have to move immediately. I can move first, get us set up and you can move down later. I’m sure Bella can find a job and a place to live near campus.”

She looked at him, still smiling, still enthusiastic about the idea. Suddenly, she needed him gone. She needed time to think.

“Bella will be home soon, so maybe you should go?” She gently suggested. She was glad when he agreed easily. She didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Alright. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

He kissed her and was gone.

She buried her face in her hands and sighed. She had no idea what she was going to do.

* * *

Cate wasn’t sure why she was back at the hospital. After living there for a week and a half, she’d thought going home, to her own house, with all her stuff, was everything she’d wanted. To sleep in her own bed again. To shower in her own bathroom again. To eat her own food at her own table. It sounded like heaven after so long away.

And Phillip was home. Surely, she should be there helping him get settled back in. But he had Sandra to get him anything he needed. No doubt he’d boss her around. They didn’t need her there for that.

However, the thought of Bart being here alone was too much for her. She knew he was in safe hands. She knew they’d call her if anything changed. But she just couldn’t bear the thought of not being here with him.

Unlike before, she didn’t have Phillip’s room to retreat to, so she stayed sat with Bart until she became too restless to stay still for even a second longer.

She found herself wandering the halls again. Much like the ghost she’d been for the past 11 days. A few of the doctors and nurses seemed to notice her. A few even threw her confused glances, knowing Phillip had gone home. They clearly wondered what she was doing back. But she ignored them. She knew she was where she wanted to be.

It wasn’t like she was ignoring or neglecting Phillip or anything. It was true they’d been a bit anxious around each other recently – since she’d kissed him – but they were working on it. They’d work it out, she was sure. She just needed to have patience.

She rounded a corner, heading nowhere in particular when she almost literally ran into Julian.

“Whoa! Sorry, Cate.” His hands had come up to grab her arms, to arrest her movement and stop him from knocking her over. His smile was warm as he looked down at her, before he realised where they were and stepped back, letting go of her.

It was funny, she thought, how he had held her arms, and smiled at her, as if it were easy. As if taking her hand or being nice to her wasn’t torture, at worst, or a chore, at best.

“What are you doing here? Hasn’t Phillip been discharged?”

“He has. I came back, to be with Bart. I know it’s silly, since he probably can’t tell if I’m here or not, but just in case...” She felt stupid, saying it out loud. But she also felt better, having confided in someone.

“It’s not silly.” His voice and eyes were warm and soft and she missed him. They seemed to be gravitating towards each other. She felt powerless to stop it.

Luckily, before she had a chance to say or do anything reckless, they were interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late. Work has been crazy busy, so I went home, ate and fell asleep without posting. My bad.


	15. Chapter 15

“Hello, Mrs Walford. Has Mr Walford already gone?” Gladys asked.

Cate took a step back from Julian and met Gladys’s smile with one of her own. It was weak, but it was the best she could do. She’d forgotten where they were. She’d forgotten herself. Now, she pulled herself back together. She couldn't let herself slip back into her old bad habits. 

“Yes. He’s home now. Sandra is there with him, getting him settled in.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye before he left.”

Gladys continued standing beside them, smiling innocently, grandmotherly. It made Cate feel remorseful for the things she’d been thinking only a moment ago.

Risking a glance at Julian, she could see he was looking agitated and ready to run. She couldn’t blame him. She wondered what he was thinking.

“I’ll tell him, when I get home. I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it.”

Gladys laughed, “Oh, he never much cared for me. But that’s just because he likes his own way and I’m no pushover. I’m sure he’s glad to be out of here, right, Dr Lee?” She looked to Julian, who stiffly nodded his agreement.

“I’ll bet he is,” He paused a moment and looked at Cate with solemn eyes. “I should be getting back to work. I’ll see you ladies later.”

Cate couldn’t say anything before he’d strode away, leaving her with a million thoughts, questions and feelings.

“You didn’t go home with Mr Walford?” Gladys asked, snapping Cate out of watching Julian as he walked away.

“I did. But I came back to see him. I mean, Bart.” She amended quickly.

Gladys’s smile didn’t waver. Maybe she hadn’t understood Cate’s slip up. She was hoping so. She didn’t need anyone else knowing about her and Julian. She didn’t want the news spreading around the hospital, or worse, outside of it. Not that there was anything to tell. Not anymore. Or was there?

* * *

Sophia hadn’t slept well. She could tell from the look on Bella’s face that she hadn’t either. They sat on the couch, drinking their morning coffees in silence. Of course, Sophia wanted to know how Bella’s date had gone, but she didn’t want to be rude. She needed a way to ask, without asking.

Apparently her curiosity wasn't subtle.

“You can go ahead and ask, if you want,” Bella sighed.

“Ask what? I wasn’t going to ask anything.” She took a sip of her coffee, trying to look disinterested.

“Yes, you were. You were going to start some conversation that would somehow conveniently end up at me and Marc. But you can skip all the bullshit and go straight to interrogation, if you want.”

“It wasn’t going to be an interrogation,” She protested.

“Yes, it was.”

“I was going to ask, politely and without judgement, how your date went.”

“It wasn’t a date. We just sat and talked.”

“Are you ok?” She geared herself up to be in motherly comfort mode, if Bella needed it.

Bella sighed, “Surprisingly, yes. I am. We just aren’t well suited and I told him so. But, I’m glad we tried.”

“How did he take it?”

“Alright. I think he’s not used to being rejected.”

“You weren’t too harsh, were you?” Marc had just been trying to do a good thing. She’d feel terrible if he ended up getting hurt by it.

“No. He was fine, really. And from now on, we’re friends, that’s all.”

“I’m glad you’re ok.”

“What about you? I noticed there were two bottles of beer on the counter. I’m guessing David came over?”

Bella was too perceptive for her own good. Sophia had tried to keep her issues away from Bella, since she had her own problems to deal with. But, Bella sometimes acted a little too much like a mother herself, fretting over everything and everyone. Even her own mother.

“He did. We talked...” She hesitated. She didn’t want to ask, not wanting to burden her daughter, but not knowing who else to talk to. “Do you think David and I are well suited?”

Thankfully, she actually seemed to think about it, rather than giving the immediate reassurance Sophia might have expected.

“I think he’s a lot like dad.”

Sophia waited for more, but that was all Bella said. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure what she meant by it, but Sophia wasn’t going to open that can of worms. Not now, anyway.

“I’ve gotta go out soon. I have a few errands to run before work.”

She’d tried avoiding thinking about the upcoming discussion, but she’d failed. She’d phrased and rephrased her questions, imagining all the different scenarios. But, with Phillip Walford, she just didn’t know what to expect.

* * *

Phillip woke up early. Very early. Earlier than usual, which was saying something, because he’d long ago trained himself to be up, at work and productive by 8am.

But since he didn’t have to be at work – and was in fact banned from it – there was no reason for him to be awake at any particular time.

The fact was, he was looking forward to seeing Sophia again. He had no idea what she wanted to ask him. It had sounded serious when they’d spoken on the phone. Perhaps it was something to do with her daughter? Or her son’s fiancée? He knew they had a strained relationship at best. He’d thought of every possible reason and was still coming up blank.

He’d been tempted to call her, to find out. But he’d forced himself to be patient. She’d rather do it face to face and he wanted to abide by her wishes. He didn’t want to push too hard.

He tried to doze off again, but his mind was too active and his stomach was in knots. Instead, he picked up a book and attempted to read. He hadn’t gotten very far before Sandra was there, checking on him. His breakfast was delivered soon after and then he was up and showering, getting ready for the day. He tried not to put too much effort into his appearance, but it was natural to want to look nice for a guest, wasn’t it?

Cate popped her head in the door to his room as he was settling back onto the bed.

“Good morning. You’re up early,” She commented. He wasn’t sure if the suspicion in her tone was real or imagined.

“I wanted to get a jump on the day. Are you heading off to see Bart soon?”

He tried not to look overly eager to have her leave. It was almost funny, he thought. Any time Cate used to go out, he used to be paranoid. Who was she with? What were they doing? Now, he wanted her gone. Soon.

He resisted the urge to glance at his watch.

“Yes. I was thinking I’d go this morning. Is that alright?”

The relief he felt was immense.

“Of course. Let me know how he is.”

“I will.”

Sandra had reappeared with his medications and he took them without complaint.

“Sandra, would you like to visit Bart with me?” Cate asked.

Sandra looked at him, panicked and begging for help. He didn’t know what to say to prevent her from leaving, without arousing suspicion. 

Instead, he interjected, “You’re welcome to go, if you’d like. I’m just going to be here, reading.” He gestured at the book he’d been failing to read all morning. “I promise I won’t do anything I’m not allowed to.”

“I...” She still hesitated.

“It’s fine, Sandra,” He assured her. He didn’t know if having Sandra around would make Sophia more comfortable, but he also wouldn’t mind the privacy. Just in case. 

“Of course. I’d like to go see Bart.” She gave a weak smile at Cate, who returned it, before hurrying off to continue getting ready for the day.

He breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Are you sure?” Sandra asked, as soon as they were sure Cate was gone.

“We’ll be fine. If it’s something foundation related, I’ll fill you in later.”

She looked agitated and like she wanted to say something, but he kept talking.

“This way, you can call me when you’re on your way home. I can make sure Sophia isn’t here when Cate gets back.”

That was something he’d been worried about. Getting Cate out of the house was the easy part. But not knowing what Sophia wanted, he didn’t know how long he needed her gone for. He was hoping for a couple of hours at least.

“Of course,” She answered. But she still looked uneasy, but he didn’t have time to wonder why. He needed to get prepared. 

“Before you go, can you help me downstairs? I think I’ll entertain Sophia in the lounge.”

* * *

Sandra was glad to be back at the hospital, which wasn’t something she’d been expecting to feel, given how she’d been desperate to escape only days ago. But now, the other option was infinitely more terrifying. She didn’t know what Sophia wanted. And not being there, she felt powerless. Who knew what they'd talk about? But she had to believe that their secret was safe. For now.

* * *

Sophia arrived back at the tower, feeling even less comfortable than she had the last time. Last time, she’d been frustrated and desperate for answers, running on adrenaline and concern. Now, with time to think and worry, she was even more anxious than before.

But she wouldn’t let that stop her. She marched up to the counter, only to be greeted by the same young man as before. There was a spark of recognition, but it was gone as quickly as it came. In its place was the bland, bored, retail smile.

“Hello. May I help you today?”

“Hello. Yes. I have an appointment with Mr Walford.” She was proud she didn’t stutter like the last time.

“And your name?”

“Sophia Grey.”

He looked away to type something into the computer.

“Do you have a photo ID I can check?”

“Uh... Sure.” That caught her off-guard, but she rooted around in her bag and pulled out her wallet, showing him the driver’s licence.

The clerk took it from her and turned away. She didn’t know how to react. Her wallet had all her money and cards and pictures of her family. She wanted to ask him what exactly he was doing, but she didn’t want to be rude, so she stood there, shocked.

Peering over his shoulder, she saw him pull her licence out and scan it. A second later, he turned back and handed everything back to her.

She hoped she didn’t look as baffled and unsettled as she felt.

“Before I can issue you your guest pass, I’m going to need you to sign in. Can you please sign here and here?” He handed her a piece of paper and pointed out a few spots to sign.

She sighed, without really knowing what she was signing or why. For all she knew, she was signing away her soul, but she didn’t dare ask. She just did as she was told.

A second later, she was handed a new piece of paper, with her name, the date and Mr Walford’s name.

“Show that to the man by the elevator and he’ll let you up to the penthouse. Don’t forget to sign out when you leave.”

She took that as her cue to walk away. She couldn’t help noticing how she hadn’t gone through nearly as much trouble last time she’d been to the penthouse, but she had been personally driven, greeted by Mrs Jones and used the penthouse exclusive elevator. The difference was stark.

She made her way over to the elevators, where a guard stood waiting.

“May I help you?” He asked.

“Yes. I’m here to visit Phillip Walford.”

She handed him her piece of paper. The guard seemed to size her up, looking at her much like the young man at the desk had, then he nodded and typed a password into the number pad beside the lifts.

“Have a nice day, Mrs Grey,” He said, ushering her into the car.

“Thank you.”

Once the door closed, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and calmed herself. How bad could it be? She’d just ask the questions she needed and hopefully get the answers she wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to get to the meeting between Sophia and Phillip. What's gonna happen?!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting we've all been waiting for.

Cate situated herself in Bart’s hospital room, as if she were a part of the furniture. Sandra envied her. Sandra didn’t really know where she fit in anywhere anymore. She’d been gone from her family for so long, she knew her mother and Thomas thought of her more of a visitor than a permanent fixture. And while she loved the Walford’s, each in their own way, she knew she didn’t belong to their world either. She was trapped between the two.

* * *

“Hello? Phillip?” Sophia’s voice timidly called from the hallway.

“In here!” He yelled back. He’d stood up from his seat to greet her but wasn’t up to walking unassisted yet. He had a cane and a wheelchair at his disposal, but he hated using either of them.

She poked her head into the living area and smiled when she saw him. It immediately made him feel calmer.

“Come in, come in. Take a seat.” He gestured to the couch and took his own seat, back in the armchair. He’d rather sit with dignity than fall. He was still too weak to stand for long and he hated it.

“Thank you.” She sat, looking uncomfortable. She was glancing around, eyes wide. “This place is amazing.”

She looked awed. He couldn’t imagine how alien his house must seem to her. He’d seen her house. It was nice, not at all as small as most single mothers might have, but it was by no means huge. It was a normal family home. He’d never lived a ‘normal’ life. His family house had been a mansion of considerable size. The penthouse, while smaller, was awe inspiring in its own way. His father’s fortune had helped him build his own, larger legacy.

If his father could see how successful he’d been, he wouldn’t believe it. Serves the old bastard right. But he didn’t want to think of his father now. Not while he finally had Sophia here.

“It’s not too bad. I don’t get lost in here as often as I used to,” He joked.

Her eyes returned to him.

His heart faltered.

“Would you like a cup of tea or coffee? A glass of water?” He offered, more for something to say and do than he expected her to accept.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

She had her hands folded in her lap and was idly spinning the engagement ring on her finger.

He grit his teeth. He wanted to ask after her fiancé but decided against it. She’d tell him if she wanted to. Maybe he could offer sympathy for him having lost his job. Not that he was supposed to know that.

“So, how are you and Bella?” He asked instead. He’d never been good with small talk, preferring to jump into the important business of things, but he recognised her discomfort. She had come to him for a reason. But she was nervous. He needed to set her at ease before she’d talk about whatever had her so agitated.

He hoped she’d trust him and feel comfortable with him.

“We’re fine. Good. She had her first date the other night.”

This was exactly the kind of small talk he hated. How did one respond to that? He finally settled on saying, “That’s wonderful. She’s an intelligent and mature young lady.” He was surprised, given her talk of surgery, that she was dating. Perhaps being in the newspaper had made her more attractive to the young men.

“How are you doing?” She asked. She did look concerned for him and the thought thrilled him.

“I’m doing much better, thank you.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to see you’re home so quickly. You look good. Healthy, I mean.”

He smiled at that, trying not to feel too flattered.

“How are Bart and Georgia?” Her eyes turned serious. The mood immediately shifted.

“Bart is fine. Cate and Sandra are with him now. He’s still in an induced coma, so we don’t know the extent of the damage yet, but the doctors are cautiously optimistic. They say he’d healing well, but we won’t know, until he’s awake again. We should be waking him soon. I’m just... Trying not to worry.”

Phillip wasn’t sure what was happening with Georgia. They knew she’d been discharged, but that was all they knew. They didn’t have any way to contact her and they didn’t really care to. She was the least of their worries.

He hadn’t meant to be so honest. But she nodded understanding and it helped. She knew how he felt. It was nice to have someone to confide in, who wasn’t either Cate or Sandra. It meant a lot.

“It’s hard to see a child go through pain and not be able to do anything. I would’ve given anything for Danny. I’m sure you’d do the same for Bart. The doctors are probably right, he’ll be fine. He seemed like a strong young man.” _Like Danny._

Phillip wondered if Bart and Danny had much in common. Would they have been friends, if they’d met? It was a random thought, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe Bart needed some down to Earth friends like Danny had been. Maybe it would’ve stopped him from going down the wrong path.

“He’s stronger than I ever have him credit for, I think.” At least, he’d stood up for himself with Georgia. That was more than Phillip had ever done to defy his own father’s iron will. Even with Cate…

“It seems like the kids always surprise us, doesn’t it? No matter what we hope or plan for them, they always manage to do something completely different.”

He laughed. “The best laid plans...”

She laughed too and the tension bled out of the room again.

Phillip relaxed.

* * *

Sandra left Cate to watch over Bart, deciding to go for a walk and maybe grab them each a coffee. But she’d barely taken a few steps before Gladys called her name.

“Sandra! What are you doing back here so soon?” She bustled up to her, disapproving frown firmly in place.

“Cate asked me to visit Bart with her.”

“Of course. How is he today?” She asked, pulling Sandra along with her to who knew where. Sandra didn’t resist.

“Same as always.”

“And our grumpy elder Walford? Is he settled back in at home?” She was making small talk. That was unlike the usually straightforward woman.

“He is.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

Gladys pulled Sandra into an empty room and shut the door. Now, Sandra was concerned. Gladys’s eyes were darting around, and she looked suspicious.

“Are you alright?” Sandra asked.

Gladys sighed and said, “I’m fine. But before he left the hospital, Mr Walford, the elder, asked me to check and update his son’s blood type. He thinks it’s wrong, on his chart.”

“Oh.” Sandra paused. Gladys shouldn’t be telling her this. It was a breach of confidentiality. Or maybe it wasn’t exactly, but it was close. But she understood why she was asking. Gladys suspected something. And she thought Sandra might know the truth.

Which she did.

“You know him better than me. Is there a chance that he was mistaken about his wife’s blood type?”

“I mean, it’s possible.” But it sounded false, even to her own ears.

“And the chance he might forget about this?” It was practically a rhetorical question. Gladys didn’t know the Walford’s like Sandra did. But she knew better than to believe Phillip would drop anything once he’d developed an interest. He was like a dog with a bone.

He’d destroyed competition for less.

“Next to none,” She confirmed.

Gladys shook her head and sighed again.

“I thought that was the case. Now, the question is, who do I talk to about it first – Phillip or Cate?”

* * *

It was companionable, sitting there with Sophia. It was nice.

“But, as wonderful as it is to catch up, it seemed like you had something important you wanted to discuss?”

The smile fell from her face. He felt immediate regret.

“I did. And I’m not even sure how to begin...”

His heart dropped, but he fought to maintain the reassuring smile on his own face. If it was in his power to help her with whatever was going on, he’d do it. If she needed money or support or whatever, he’d do it.

“Start at the beginning. I find it’s usually a good starting point.”

“Alright. Well, you told me you have Danny’s heart. At the lunch.”

“Yes. I did.” His hand covered his chest, remembering her touch.

“And I felt it. I felt his heart in your chest,” She paused and he knew that whatever came next was whatever had her so agitated. “But then, a few days later, I received a letter.” She pulled a crumpled envelope out of her handbag and handed it to him. It had clearly been read and reread. He recognised the logo on the front as the transplant department.

“Am I allowed to read it?” He asked, eyes seeking hers. But she’d closed off and refused to look at him. She simply nodded silently. She was biting her lip and looking more distressed by the second. He pulled the letter out of the envelope and read.

“What?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. He reread it again. “I don’t... What?” He asked again.

“I don’t know.” Came the timid reply 

“But I have his heart.”

“Are you sure?” It didn’t sound accusatory. It just sounded searching.

“Yes. I... I was told I did.” His ears were ringing, and he couldn’t see straight. He tried to keep his heart beating, even as it began to break.

“By who? Are they sure?” She pushed.

“I don’t know.” He put the letter back in the envelope and tossed it on the table beside him. His hands had begun to shake. He’d been so sure…

“I didn’t know what to think. I tried to ask you, but then everything happened.” She didn’t need to expand on what she meant. He couldn’t remember most of the phone call before he’d collapsed, but he could remember enough.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. There had to be a logical explanation. That’s all there was to it. He had taken on Danny’s characteristics. What other explanation for that was there? It must be the transplant therapists who somehow got something mixed up. Otherwise he’d know. Wouldn’t he? Sandra had told him…

“My source was trustworthy. I trust her. The transplant department must have made a mistake. Because I _know_ I have Danny’s heart.”

“How do you know?” She asked desperately.

“Don’t you feel it?”

She furrowed her brow. “Feel what?”

“The connection between us.” He reached out and took her hand in his. She looked down at them, then back up into his eyes. She seemed to relax, and it warmed his heart. _Danny’s heart. His heart. Their heart._

“I do.”

“Then please, trust me.” He leaned forwards and just as his lips met hers, she jerked backwards out of his reach.

“I have to go. I’m sorry.”

She grabbed her handbag and rushed out. He stared after her, wanting to shout for her to come back. But he understood. He had scared her. He had scared himself. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. He didn’t know what had come over him.

He sat back in his chair, unsure what to do next.

* * *

Gladys cleared her throat and Cate whipped around.

“Oh! Hello Gladys. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you, Mrs Walford.”

“How many times must I tell you to call me Cate?” She looked at Sandra with an amused smile, but the smile drooped slightly as she saw Sandra’s face. Sandra wasn’t sure exactly what Cate saw, but she imagined it wasn’t a happy expression.

“Alright, Cate. Do you have a moment to talk?”

“Of course. What’s wrong?” She was becoming more perturbed by the moment.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is your blood type?” Gladys was trying to be subtle and cautious. But it was so unlike her usual temperament it had Cate on alert more than if she’d just come straight out and accused her of Bart not being Phillip’s.

“It’s A+. Why? Do you need donors?”

“Mr Walford was looking at your son’s chart and noticed the blood type. He asked me to double check it, because he believed it to be wrong.”

“Oh, God,” Cate whispered. “What did you tell him?” She asked Gladys, eyes wide and beseeching.

“Nothing. Yet. But I checked and Bart’s blood type is indeed AB+. If he asks...” She didn’t have to tell Cate what she meant. She knew. They all knew.

“He’s going to find out, isn’t he?” She looked to Sandra, looking for reassurance or advice. Sandra wasn’t sure what she could offer.

“Maybe. Maybe he’ll forget about it and move on. Or maybe you can tell him it was a random genetic mutation.”

Sandra felt the disapproval from Gladys as she confirmed what she’d suspected. She knew Bart wasn’t Phillip’s. She’d be hearing about this later, she knew. Like a schoolchild sent to the principal’s office.

“No. He’s too smart. He won’t believe it. He won’t believe me.”

To be honest, knowing what she knew, Sandra wouldn’t blame him.

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

* * *

Sandra rang Phillip on the way home from the hospital. He didn’t pick up, which had her worried, but she didn’t share her concern with Cate, who was already stressed enough. She was pale and hadn’t said anything since they’d left the hospital. It was lucky Cate didn’t have a weak heart.

Sandra was afraid to return to the penthouse, not sure what awaited them. But they needed to. Phillip not picking up the phone could mean he’d had another attack, or he’d left. Or Sophia was still there… There were a million options. And none of them were good.

They arrived back at the tower and both women remained silent as they rode the elevator up. They could both feel the tension, though Sandra knew Cate didn’t know the half of it. She wondered what would happen if she told her. But what would she tell her exactly? She didn’t know what was happening with Phillip and Sophia’s meeting or what it was about. And she’d kept Cate’s secrets. It seemed only fair to keep Phillip’s too.

She just wished she didn’t have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot happening, guys, gals and theys.
> 
> This week's chapter was a day early because obviously the next couple days are gonna be crazy busy with Christmas and everything. But next week's chapter might be a little late. I'm not sure yet. I'll be visiting the fam and we'll be busy. I'll let you all know though. 
> 
> Also, please stay safe over the holidays. It's been a crappy year, let's end it safe and hope 2021 is better.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath. The before. The mess.

Phillip saw Sandra’s name pop up on his phone, but he let it go to voicemail. They were on their way home, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and clear all sign of Sophia’s presence from the place. If it wasn’t for the letter on the table beside him, he’d have thought it was all a bad dream. But he knew better.

He needed to hide the letter. He’d stash it away in his safe, where no one else could find it. And then, he’d try to find out what had gone wrong. Because the transplant coordinators were careful. They had processes and procedures. It seemed almost impossible that they’d have told someone they had Danny’s heart if it wasn’t true.

But the other option was that he had been lied to. But by who? Had Sandra’s contact lied to her? And for what end? Phillip would’ve given them the money no matter whose name they told him. Or, did Sandra lie? That seemed the most unlikely of any scenario – almost laughable, if the situation was at all funny – but he’d learnt long ago that sometimes even the people he trusted the most lied.

He had to admit, if it had been a lie, it had been a good one. He’d been so glad it wasn’t any other name. He’d been pleased to find out it had been Danny, who he’d been able to research easily. It seemed almost too good to be true, that his donor had been such a prominent figure in the transplant community already. Sure, the drug scandal had been a blow, but it had been nothing compared to the knowledge of his family and friends.

A family Phillip had never had.

He wanted it so badly to be true. But maybe it had all been too good to be true. So, what was the next step? Go back to Sandra, dig a little more into her contact? Get a name and hire a private investigator? Or, ask Sophia to respond to the letter? And that was only if she’d respond to him first. He wouldn’t blame her if she decided to never contact him again.

No. As much as he wanted to call her, apologise and try to fix things, he had to let Sophia be for now. He’d only push her away further.

He’d just talk to Sandra, ask her some questions and see what came of it. Hopefully he’d get it all sorted and it would all be ok.

In the meantime, he needed to hide that letter.

* * *

Bella had been having a nice day, making the most of her time before uni and exams would dominate her life. She’d spent a little while scrolling on the internet – too long, but it passed the time – and had just sat down at the piano to practice when her mother tore through the front door like a whirlwind. Her hair was in disarray and her face drawn. Something bad had clearly happened. 

“Hey, are you ok?” Bella followed her as she swept past her without so much as a glance.

She didn’t answer.

“Is something wrong? Are David and Carrie alright?” She was mentally flipping through the list of things that could have her mother so thoroughly distressed.

“They’re fine. I think. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine.” It was like she wasn’t even trying to sound believable.

They’d ended up in the master bedroom, as her mum undressed, taking off the heels (something Bella had rarely seen her mother wear, except more recently. Her mother had always been somewhat of a tomboy), tossing her jewellery onto the vanity and slipped out of her dress. She was changed into her sweats faster than Bella could blink.

“Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?” Sophia finally ceased her endless, hectic motion and flopped on her bed with a sigh.

“I wish there was. But, no. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Bella wanted to rant and rave at her, but instead, she took a breath and said, “You know I’m not a kid anymore, right?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”

“Then you know that you can talk to me about anything. I know I’m your daughter, but I am also an adult.”

“I know. I appreciate the offer and I will tell you. I promise. But not now.”

“Alright. You know where to find me.” She headed back to the piano, but significantly more distracted than before. It took a lot to unsettle her normally fairly rational and level-headed mother.

Still, there was nothing she could do if no one would tell her the truth.

* * *

Sandra didn’t know what to expect when they entered the penthouse, but she was pleasantly surprised to find everything as normal, down to Phillip sitting in his armchair reading the paper. He looked up when they entered. She couldn’t decipher what he was thinking, as he surveyed them standing in the doorway. 

“How was Bart?” He began, calmly folding and putting the newspaper on the side table.

“He’s fine. How are you?” Cate answered. If Sandra wasn’t standing beside her, she would think she was as calm as could be. But she could see the slight shaking of her hands and the tension in her smile.

“I’m fine. Though, I wouldn’t mind a bit of a midday nap. Sandra, can you help me up the stairs?”

Sandra felt as if she’d stepped into a bizarre parallel world. She knew they were all there, stressed and hiding things from each other, but they were acting as if nothing were amiss. It was almost enough to give her a stomach ulcer.

“Of course,” She answered, as if she were following a script. He stood and both she and Cate rushed to his side, helping him slowly up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“I’ll leave you to settle in and rest,” Cate said, quickly escaping. Sandra couldn’t blame her, but she did wish she could follow her and hole herself up inside her own room for a few hours respite. That break she’d taken on Gladys’s orders suddenly seemed like a lifetime ago, rather than a few days.

Could she quit again? Or, reinstate her resignation? Or maybe just change her and Thomas’s names and move to Peru?

“Sandra, I’d like to talk to you about your transplant coordinator friend,” He began.

She turned away to get his medication. Her gut, which had already been filled with butterflies, suddenly started rattling like an old tumble dryer on its highest setting. She thought she might be sick.

But she steeled herself. She was stronger than that.

“Yes? What about him?” She asked as she turned back to face him. She couldn’t read his expression, but mostly because he didn’t really have one. He had a hell of a poker face.

She only hoped hers was half as good.

“I was hoping to get more coordinators involved in the foundation. I thought perhaps your friend might be a good place to start.”

“I’m not sure if he’d be interested or not...” She hedged.

“Or maybe he’d have contacts who would be willing to volunteer?”

“I’ll ask,” She answered, hoping it would buy her some time. Maybe in a week or so, she could say she’d asked, but he’d declined? But Phillip wasn’t one to take no for an answer.

“Wonderful.”

He smiled and she wasn’t sure she hadn’t just fallen into a trap.

* * *

Sophia didn’t know how to feel or what to do. Her mind was scattered, like a puzzle with half the pieces missing. She’d called in sick to work with a headache. It hadn’t even been a lie.

Phillip had kissed her. That was not something she’d expected in a million years. Maybe she should’ve, but she just hadn’t. She still didn’t really know what to make of him. Bella was suspicious of him. As was David – though his suspicion was heavily influenced by jealousy. She hadn’t thought he’d had any reason to be, and laughed it off, but apparently, he’d seen something she hadn’t.

As soon as she’d gotten the letter, she’d thought Bella had been right to be guarded and to warn against him. David had been so angry. As had she.

And she’d expected to go to his house and confront him. Ask him why he’d lied about having Danny’s heart. Ask why he’d been so desperate to meet her. But he’s seemed as confused by the letter as she had been. He seemed incredibly distressed at the idea that he’d been lied to. Maybe he was just a good actor and he’d known all along. But she wasn’t convinced of that. She trusted him. Maybe it was silly, but she did feel a connection to him.

But where did this leave her now? Did he really have Danny’s heart? How could they find out? Did she even want to? Was their connection real? And was it romantic? Where did that leave her and David? And Phillip and Mrs Walford?

She was so dazed and distracted and didn’t know what to do. She wanted to talk to someone, to express what she was going through, because trying to keep it in was killing her. But who could she talk to? Who could possibly understand?

* * *

“Cate?” Sandra gently interrupted. She figured she’d start out as gentle as possible, before jumping into the soul-destroying truths.

Cate was writing in a new journal. After burning the old ones, Sandra wasn’t sure why she’d started a new one. Maybe she just needed the fresh start.

Still, it all seemed a bit crazy to her. Why write down incriminating information? Cate may say that he’d never snoop, but why risk it in the first place?

“Yes?” She put her expensive gold pen down and Sandra closed the door behind her. She didn’t want Phillip overhearing them.

“He’s asking questions.”

“About Bart?”

“No. About our transplant therapist contact.”

If Cate had already seemed unnerved, it was nothing to how she seemed now. She was a shade of grey that was undoubtedly unhealthy. Ironically, the hospital stay had drained her.

“Why? Why now?” It sounded like a rhetorical question, but she did have an answer. Still, she hesitated. It wasn’t an answer Cate would appreciate. In fact, she’d probably hate it. But Sandra didn’t have much left to lose. The guilt and layers of lies upon lies were crushing her. She needed to come clean. Damn the consequences.

“I think Mrs Grey is asking questions.”

“Sophia Grey? Why would she be asking?” Her eyebrows drew together, and she pouted her cherry red lips.

Sandra wished she looked half as glamorous in the midst of a crisis.

“She knows.” She didn’t specify exactly what she knew. Her raised eyebrows did the work.

“How did she find out?”

“I don’t know all the details. Only that he told her at the lunch.” There had been so much going on, both at the lunch and after, it had barely been a blip on the radar. Until he’d started asking uncomfortable questions about her “friend”. It seemed he knew more than he should. Or at least, suspected.

“Why would he do that?”

“I imagine it was for the same reason she was here today.” She wasn’t going to speculate the relationship between Phillip and Sophia, and she wasn’t going to judge. Yet, she knew it wasn’t something simple.

“She was here?” Her eyes flashed dangerously. Sandra had to look away. “And you knew?” Her voice had turned icy.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sounded betrayed. Sandra didn’t blame her, not really. But she wanted her to understand how much stress she’d been under. Unlike the Walford’s, she wasn’t used to a life of intrigue and lies. It went against everything she believed in. Ever since she’d agreed to lie to Phillip about Danny Grey, she’d been on a slippery slide into nothing but more lies to cover lies. It was getting hard to remember who knew what and what the truth really was.

“Because he didn’t want me to. He asked me not to.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“We are! But I couldn’t stop him from seeing her without giving a reason.”

Cate sighed, “I understand, Sandra. I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”

She appreciated the sentiment, but she couldn’t help but feel it was a little too late for that.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to him. About Bart.”

That couldn’t possibly go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry It's a day late. I was travelling yesterday out of range of phone data.


	18. Chapter 18

Bella was planning. If there was anything she excelled at, she thought organising was it. She knew her mum would say she was good at piano, but Bella knew she was far from proficient and it wasn’t like she’d been a prodigy. It had taken more hours than she could count to get to her level, and she had innumerable hours laid out before her. Even then, she’d never be the best. It was lucky she loved it or she’d have given up long ago.

But being organised was something that came naturally to her. She enjoyed planning and categorising and strategizing. In this instance, Marti’s going away celebration, she was organising a party. A big one. Not too over the top, because between them, she and Marc didn’t have a lot of resources, but that just made it more of a challenge. She liked a challenge.

 _“Can you organise the invite list? You know more of her friends than I do”,_ she texted Marc.

 _“Sure. So long as you handle the decoration *wink face emoji*,”_ he replied a moment later.

She wasn’t sure if he was attempting to flirt with her or not, but ultimately, she decided not. They’d had the discussion about how they weren’t compatible. And if anyone wished they were, it was her. He was so far out of her league it wasn’t funny. She still didn’t know why he’d agreed to go out with her at all. She could only imagine it was pity or something equally as humiliating. But she couldn’t fault him for his behaviour on their date and subsequent meet up at the oval. He’d been perfectly sweet, kind and she really could let herself believe they were on a proper date. Now, if/when someone finally asked her out, she’d know what to do. And what not to do. He was a safe first trial date. She really should thank him for that.

 _“I’ll make sure to buy all the glitter”,_ she joked.

_“Not glitter! We’ll be cleaning it up for years.”_

She laughed, glad he got her sense of humour, even through text. She was glad that she had him as a friend. It made her feel a little bit closer to Danny and it was finally nice to see she wasn’t completely invisible to every heterosexual male on the planet. And no, Miles didn’t count. He was practically a brother.

_“Fine, just streamers, but know that I’m severely disappointed.”_

All she got in response was three cry laugh emoji’s, but that was fine. She had planning to do, which she’d never get done if he was constantly distracting her. Even if he was a very nice distraction. It seemed crazy to her that for so long, he’d been the object of her infatuation. Now, her feelings were completely platonic. Of course, she still thought he was gorgeous. She still had eyes and she knew what was considered attractive. But it was in a more detached, objective way. Any serious crush she had on him had disappeared in a puff of smoke.

She was just glad she’d gained a friend.

* * *

“Phillip? Are you awake?” Cate’s soft, cautious voice floated into the room.

As tired as he was – in every possible way – he knew sleep would allude him. He had too much on his mind. He thought about ignoring her and pretending to sleep, but if she was willing to wake him, it must be something important. Did she somehow know something? About Sophia?

“I’m awake. What’s wrong?” He sat up and pressed the button to open the curtains a little.

“Nothing’s wrong,” She said, walking into the room and taking a tentative seat on the end of the bed. He shifted up against the headboard to make room for her.

He hoped she didn’t do what she’d done last time they’d been in this position. Guilt wasn’t a usual part of his emotional repertoire – not even about the death of Gareth, no matter how hard people had tried to force it on him. But now, the thought of holding Cate after kissing Sophia less than an hour before had him feeling nauseated.

But how could he stop her if she tried? He couldn’t tell her the truth. It would require too much truth. Things he’d been hiding for too long and for what reason? Why hadn’t he told her about having Danny’s heart? He’d meant to. Eventually. But now, it had become too complicated. That one truth now came with a slew of others. Each worse than the last.

He couldn’t do that to her.

He thought about waiting her out, to see what she’d say, letting the uncomfortable silence pressure her into talking. It was an effective strategy to get an enemy confessing all sorts of things. But in this, he’d prefer to rip the band aid off and hear whatever was on her mind. Sometimes direct was best.

“Then what did you want to talk about?”

“Bart.”

“You said he was alright?”

“He is. But the doctor said that there’s no point keeping him in a coma any longer. He’s as healed as he’ll ever be, while under. They want us to give them permission to wake him.”

He’d known this was coming sooner or later, but it still struck fear into him.

“When?”

“Whenever we’re ready. They’ll schedule it for a time that suits us. If you want to be there?” She asked as if she wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure why she wouldn’t be sure. Did she still think he was angry with Bart for Georgia? Because if there was one thing that had put that whole fiasco in perspective, it was nearly dying – again – and nearly losing Bart. Everything else seemed trivial by comparison. He hated himself for having lost sight of that. What would Danny have thought of him? What did Sophia think of him?

What Sophia thought of him, especially after that morning, plagued him. He hoped he hadn’t broken their relationship beyond repair.

“Of course, I want to be there,” He assured her. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand or touch her shoulder. But he couldn’t make himself do it. He didn’t deserve to touch her after what he’d done. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself.

“Should I have them schedule it for in a few days’ time?”

“Wonderful.”

Silence blanketed them again, but this time, most of the tension – at least from her side – had disappeared. It didn’t seem like she suspected anything. He almost wished she did. Her rage was something he could deal with. He’d had a lot of practice.

“I’ll go call them now.” She stood to leave and the weight on his shoulders lifted with her. She didn’t try to kiss him, and he was glad. He didn’t know what he’d have done if she had.

He lay down again and tried to breathe slowly, calming himself. He could move on from this. He would throw himself into looking after Bart and forget about everything else.

* * *

Georgia hadn’t been expecting the phone to ring. It hadn’t rung more than five times since she’d been in the hotel and every time had been either her mother or the police. She’d have been upset none of her friends had called, if she had been able to be upset. As it was, she just felt comfortably numb. It was nice. It meant she didn’t have to think about anything. She should’ve been doing this years ago. It would’ve made life more bearable. No wonder her mum hadn’t been sober in decades.

“Hello?” She answered hesitantly.

“Hello, is this Mrs Georgia Walford?” The unfamiliar female voice asked.

She couldn’t stop the grown that escaped at the name “Mrs Walford”. She hated it. 

“Are you alright, Mrs Walford?” The voice sounded concerned now.

“I’m fine. Just, please, don’t call me that. Call me Georgia.”

“Ok, Georgia. This is Doctor Bui. I’m your husband’s doctor.”

Her heart leapt and suddenly she felt more clear-headed. “Is he alright?” She crossed her fingers and hoped with everything she had. But all her hopes were dashed within a moment.

“He’s fine. In fact, we’re going to be bringing him out of the coma tomorrow…”

She sighed and reached for the bag of pills again. There was no way she was having this conversation sober.

* * *

Sophia needed to get her head on straight. She was distracted thinking about David and Phillip. And Paul. All the men in her life were dogging her every step. She was glad she’d called in sick to work. It gave her time to mull everything over, without having a bunch of overly energetic kids to look after. As preoccupied as she was, she was sure someone would’ve gotten hurt falling off the playground or in a skirmish between the children.

She was confused. Beyond confused. She liked David. He was safe. She’d known him forever and he loved her. It was nice to be loved, to be desired, after so long alone. She’d made peace with being alone for the rest of her life. But then she got a little caught up in being wanted. But did she love him? No. But she might be able to, given enough time. He was solid and stable and so much like Paul. Not that Paul was perfect, not by any measure. And David had Carrie. She loved Carrie like a daughter and Carrie loved her like a mother. It seemed like a perfect fit, didn’t it? He wasn’t exciting, but she didn’t need exciting, did she? She’d had passion when she was young. And passion didn’t always make the best foundation for relationships. But then, he’d dropped the Melbourne bomb on her, and it completely destabilised them. He’d made decisions without her. He’d done that from the very start of their relationship, proposing before they’d even discussed dating. That worried her.

And Phillip… He was an entirely different type of man than both Paul and David. She couldn’t deny that she felt a connection to him. And she had done, from their first meeting, even before she knew about Danny’s heart. He was flashy yes, but he _was_ obscenely rich. She would be flashy too if she had even a fraction of his wealth. He’d been intimidating, at least at first. But then she found out he was kind and sweet and he might have Danny’s heart beating in his chest. And it had made him seem familiar to her, like a family member – or lover? But was Danny’s heart the only reason she was drawn to him? She couldn’t deny that she found him handsome, charming and charismatic. He was older than her, for sure, but not by too much. Not enough to cause a scandal. Besides, Cate was a few years younger than him.

Which reminded her – he had a wife. Was he a serial cheater? Was she just the latest in a long line? Was he just using Danny’s heart to get close to her? He’d said as much, but she’d assumed it was for different reasons. He didn’t seem manipulative like that. Maybe she’d misunderstood him. But why would _she_ interest _him_? He could have almost any woman in the world, with his wealth and charm.

Somehow, she didn’t feel like he was using her. There had been a nervousness, a timidity, in his kiss. If he was the type to sleep around, surely he would’ve been more confident. He probably would’ve wined and dined her, not invited her over at 10am on a Tuesday. If he’d been trying to seduce her, it had been a weird way to go about it.

But she didn’t know him well enough to really understand his motivations. Maybe dedicating an entire charitable foundation to her son wasn’t a big deal to him. But it was to her. It meant more than she could possibly ever express or repay. And it lent itself to the idea that he hadn’t been lying. He truly believed he had Danny’s heart.

So, what should she do? What could she do? She had a fiancé and a billionaire who, for some reason seemed drawn to her. Why? She was just a boring, normal old day-care worker. She wasn’t special.

She would just take some time out, away from both men. Time to sort herself out. Figure out what she wanted and what it all meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! May it be better than the last.


	19. Chapter 19

They arrived at the hospital, all three of them incredibly tense. Phillip had barely spoken all morning and Sandra had been restless, never being still even for a second. Cate herself was the happy medium. She was still but was more than happy to make any type of small talk with Sandra in the car, trying not to think too much.

She should be excited, since she was going to have her son back. But all she could wonder was what if? All the possible outcomes were overwhelming. She’d done research and asked the doctors all the questions she could think of, but she still felt thoroughly underprepared. She had no idea how Bart was going to behave when he woke up and so she couldn’t plan. She liked to have plans. She made lists and considered every possible option in any given situation. But in this, she had no idea. And accepting that fact had been impossible.

To say she was nervous was an understatement. But she tried not to look it. She may have been a mess when she’d been living at the hospital, but now she was back at home, she wouldn’t allow herself to look anything but immaculate. She had a reputation to regain as an indomitable, perfectly put together billionaire’s wife. Not that she really cared what people thought about her. She never really had but given everything that had happened in the past year, life had been put into perspective.

Bart was what mattered. Phillip was what mattered. Nothing else mattered.

She turned the corner of the hallway that led to Bart’s room. She saw Julian and, like he could sense her, he turned, giving her a big, welcoming smile. She smiled back, but it was weak, she knew.

His smile disappeared as soon as Sandra wheeled Phillip around the corner. He was whinging and whining about having to be in a wheelchair, but they all knew he wasn’t up to walking very far. Still, he had his own image to maintain. She just wished it wasn’t the commanding, stern, billionaire businessman. He had been a sweet, kind, loving father and husband once. And maybe he would be again, at least, in private.

Julian turned tail and retreated. She didn’t blame him. When she glanced down at Phillip, he was looking up at her, frowning. He’d seen at least some of the exchange. Luckily, he didn’t say anything about it. She was grateful. She didn’t have the emotional capacity for an argument. Not now.

She could feel Sandra’s eyes on her too, but she didn’t dare look at her. She just continued forward. She needed to be thinking about Bart and nothing else. He was going to need them. And she needed him too, as much as she wouldn’t admit it. He had been her one constant friend and confidant for as long as he’d been alive. It was an unconventional relationship, but then, all her relationships were. It was hard to have friendships when people tended to want her money more than her company, something she’d taught Bart early too. She didn’t ever want to see him hurt by false friends. 

The only friend who had hurt him was her. She’d put him in between her and Phillip too many times. He’d always defended her against Phillip, but then, he hadn’t known the truth. No one had. But now, that truth was close to coming out and she dreaded the day it did. It would only hurt everyone even more.

* * *

In Bart’s room, it was bustling more than Cate had seen it since his surgeries, with several doctors and nurses playing with wires, injecting drugs and speaking quietly between themselves. Bart had his intubation tube out and he looked far more like himself again.

“Hello, Mr and Mrs Walford. Please, come in,” Dr Bui greeted them. She was a young doctor, but extremely talented. At least, from what Cate read from her extensive research. She’d been ready to demand a much older, more experienced doctor, but her fears had been unfounded. “We’re just waiting on Georgia to join us.” 

Cate was surprised to hear that. Georgia hadn’t, as far as she knew, visited Bart since she’d been discharged. But she was willing to give the woman the benefit of the doubt that she’d been busy recovering and hadn’t forgotten about her husband. After all, Georgia had been shot too, which had to be traumatic, as well as painful. The fact that the police seemed to assume the attack was targeting her, not Bart, had to be weighing on her conscience. Cate couldn’t possibly imagine what the younger woman was thinking or feeling. Especially considering she could hardly understand or control her own feelings on the situation.

As if summoned by the thought of her, Georgia entered and Cate was struck by the difference between the young lady who stood in front of her now, compared to the woman she’d been only a couple of weeks ago. Her skin was pale, and she looked too thin. Her clothes hung off her tiny, withered frame. She seemed unsteady on her feet. And the confidence she’d had was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello,” She said, even her voice had shrunken. She sat in the last remaining chair, farthest from the bed. But she didn’t complain. She barely looked at anyone.

“Alright,” The doctor began, after Georgia had sat. The doctor looked as concerned at the sight of Georgia as Cate felt but didn’t say anything. “We’ve stopped the drugs. It should only be a few more minutes before he’s awake. He’ll be groggy and confused at first. But it shouldn’t take long for that to wear off.”

She paused then and looked at each of Bart’s loved ones. “Just don’t expect too much.”

They all knew that. They knew what to expect, in that they knew not to expect too much. The doctors were hopeful, but what that meant, Cate didn’t really know.

The room was silent, except for the ever-present beep of the machines.

Bart groaned.

Everyone was holding their breath, waiting.

His eyes opened and they wandered around the room, but they weren’t focusing on anything. They were glassy and red as they swept the room. They passed over them all but didn’t stop.

Her heart sank.

“Bart?”

* * *

Phillip was glad for his pacemaker. Otherwise he was sure his heart would’ve stopped. The tension in the room was stifling.

Bart was awake. Not fully aware yet, but he was awake. It was a start. A good start. But Phillip was trying not to get his hopes up.

His eyes were roaming, not stopping for a second to take anything in. He wasn’t blind, was he? Phillip was sure the doctors hadn’t mentioned that as a possibility, but then again, they had said to be prepared for anything.

“Bart?” Cate asked, as his eyes once again drifted to them.

Whether it was the noise or whether he recognised his name, his eyes stopped on Cate, who stood, and her hand flew to grab his shoulder. It was a strong pinch, but it was grounding him, giving him some connection as they waited. 

Each second seemed like a millennium.

“Mum? Dad?” His eyes seemed to have focussed enough to see them. And while his speech was slurred, almost beyond recognition, they knew he could see them. He knew them. He knew they were there.

Phillip stood from his wheelchair, heedless of his wobbly legs. He and Cate rushed to the bed. Cate took Bart’s hand and Phillip grabbed the guardrail, trying not to collapse under the weight of his own relief.

“My baby, you’re awake!” Cate was crying and Phillip knew he was fairing no better. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“What happened?” Bart asked, closing his eyes again.

“You were hurt. But you’re ok now. You’re alright, my darling.” Cate was smoothing back his hair, being gentle around the wounds, but just needing to touch him, to reassure him, and herself, that he was alright.

Phillip glanced at the other occupants of the room. The doctors and nurses were looking relieved and happy. Sandra was stood behind Cate, looking dazed. Georgia was still in her chair, looking at Bart with wide, confused eyes. He understood the emotion. None of them could have imagined he’d be awake, aware and so completely normal so soon. It seemed too good to be true.

Bart sighed and closed his eyes again.

“Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for now,” The doctor interrupted.” We need to do some tests and he needs to rest. But he should be fine for visitors again tomorrow.”

He sat back down in the wheelchair, feeling emotionally drained. Despite the odds, Bart was going to be alright. His hand found Cate’s and squeezed. She turned a radiant, relieved grin his way and he thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

Everything was going to be fine.

“Let’s go home.”

* * *

Georgia watched Bart awaken with a mess of emotions. He seemed fine. How the fuck could he possibly be fine? Was his skull made of titanium? Still, a tiny part of her, a part she didn’t understand, was almost glad he hadn’t died. Bart really hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been the only person in her life who loved her. He treated her with respect and defended her, against the police, against his parents... He loved her and she had no idea why. She wished she could’ve loved him back. Maybe they could’ve been happy.

But she couldn’t love him. She was broken. She didn’t know how to love. And he was unfortunately the son of two people she hated. Phillip and Cate had destroyed her family.

The idea of Cate and her father together made her sick, but she took a kind of twisted joy in having been with both her son and her lover. She wondered if Cate had made that connection, since Bart hadn’t. She’d wanted to tell him and watch the horror on his face. But he was too much of a kicked puppy to play with like that.

And Phillip, he’d taken away her inheritance. Well, not all of it. The part in trust for her had been safe. But she should’ve been rich. She should’ve never needed to work or worry about money. Phillip had taken that away when he’d almost bankrupted her father. Now, her mother had to sponge off her and she’d never be in the highest echelons of society.

Her father had been a bastard and his money had been his only redeeming feature. Without that, he’d just been like every other dirty fucker out there.

The Walford’s needed to pay. And now, they were sobbing by Bart’s bed, tears of joy running down their stupid faces.

She knew she was supposed to be playing up the role of dutiful, relieved wife, but all she wanted to do was scream at them. She wanted to rip and tear at them, and ruin them the way she’d been ruined. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The numbness she’d been enjoying for the past two weeks hadn’t worn off, even though she hadn’t had a pill in over two hours.

So, instead, she sat there, watching them being a family, a real family, the kind she’d never known and let herself be forgotten.

Once the Walford’s were gone, the doctor returned, alone.

“Are you alright, Mrs Walford?” She asked, startling her.

“I’m fine. Just glad he’s going to be alright,” She said, putting on her best sad, pitiable look. 

The doctor gave her a sympathetic smile, “He’s a fighter. We’re taking him up to get some scans. Will you be ok to wait here alone? We’ll probably be a while.”

“It’s fine. I have my watch dogs outside,” She gestured at the police officers stationed outside the door. There were twice as many as normal, with two for her and two for Bart. She knew it was supposed to make her feel safe, but all it did was make her feel watched. But two of them followed Bart to wherever he was being wheeled off to, so she relaxed a little.

Looking around the room, she soon realised there was not much to entertain her. As an ICU room, it was dominated by machinery and other miscellaneous medical equipment. There was a tiny TV, in the corner, for visitors to watch, but nothing else. The Walford’s hadn’t left a single thing behind, not a book or a magazine.

She stood and began to open each of the cupboards. Mostly they were filled with pillows, blankets and random medical stuff she had no idea what it did.

But then, in an unlocked cupboard beside where the bed sat, was a bottle of pills. She pulled it out, reading the label. She didn’t recognise the name, but Google did. They were strong painkillers. Stronger than anything she’d had so far, even the stuff Mikael had given her. No one would notice them missing, would they? She slipped them into her pocket and decided she’d had enough of pretending to care.

She strode out of the hospital, smirking to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bart has joined the game, guys! Any idea what might be going on in his head?


	20. Chapter 20

Cate practically floated into the penthouse. Every fear she’d had, every thought of losing Bart, whether physically or mentally, had disappeared in an instant. No matter what happened now, she knew she could handle it. She felt as invincible as Bart seemed.

She could tell Phillip was feeling the same, because he no longer complained about being in a wheelchair. He looked dazed but happy, staring off into the distance during the car ride home. She let him be, not wanting to disturb whatever he was thinking. They both had a lot to process.

She still thought it was a bit strange though, seeing him showing his emotions. For so many years, she’d lived with a statue.

“Hey, Sandra. Why don’t you take today off?” Phillip asked her, taking Cate completely by surprise. It wasn’t like he couldn’t be kind and thoughtful, but she was still getting used to the new/old Phillip being sweet.

“If you’re sure,” Sandra hesitated, looking to Cate.

She nodded. If Phillip was willing to do without her for a day, Cate wasn’t going to say no.

“Alright. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sandra left, looking as befuddled as Cate felt, but a day off was a day off. No one would say no to that.

As soon as Phillip was sure she was gone, he turned his eyes to Cate. They were unreadable, still red around the edges.

“Can we talk?”

Her heart dropped. The moment she’d dreaded was finally upon them. But instead of letting it show, she drew all her strength and nodded.

“Of course.”

* * *

Sophia was busy, finally back at work. And she was glad. It meant she didn’t have too much time to stress over everything that was happening. The kids were energetic and excited, and she let herself enjoy the simplicity of it all. All these kids were concerned about was their playdoh sculpture or their finger painting. At worst, there were little fights now and then, but like most things with the kids, they forgot about them in ten minutes and were back to playing together as if they’d always been best friends.

Sophia envied them. She couldn’t remember the last time her worries had been simple. Not since she’d met Paul as a teenager, desperate to grow up and be a woman.

Now she’d give anything to be that girl, who knew nothing of heartbreak or loss. But even Bella, who was that age now, wasn’t carefree. Losing her father and brother had hurt her. Not to mention being bullied. If she could take Bella’s pain as her own, she would. Because she could never go back to being innocent and happy, but had Bella ever been? She wasn’t sure.

She felt like a failure of a wife, mother and now fiancée. No matter what she did, she just couldn’t seem to get it right.

But what was ‘right’? Should she be allowing Bella to get the surgery? Should she be trusting Phillip? Should she be letting herself care for him? What about David?

She could feel another headache coming on, so she focussed on the kids again.

Carrie seemed a little more subdued that normal, which she’d noticed almost immediately. Shed hoped she’d perk up during the day, being around her friends and painting, but she didn’t.

“Carrie?”

“Yes, mummy Sophia?”

She tried not to let Carrie see how much she hated that new name that had popped up recently. Carrie didn’t know any better. Still, Sophia had hoped David would’ve talked to her and let her know that she wasn’t her mummy yet. And she never really would be.

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No. I’m just sad because daddy is sad.”

“Why is your daddy sad?”

“I don’t know. He just gets really sleepy and sick at night.”

She didn’t exactly know what that meant. She hadn’t really talked to David in a few days and she suspected he was probably angry at her being so distant. He was already feeling threatened by Phillip before he even had reason to. Did he have reason to? Phillip wasn’t going to steal her away or anything…

“Me and Daddy miss you,” Carrie said. She wasn’t trying to make her feel guilty. But regardless, it made her feel a bit like a terrible person.

“I miss you too.”

Carrie flew into her arms and hugged her as tight as her little child arms could.

“I promise, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” But what did that mean, now?

* * *

“What do you want to talk about?” Cate asked. As hard as she was trying not to, she looked nervous.

He was nervous too.

“We’ve been trying to rebuild this relationship of ours recently. And if it is to continue, there can’t be any secrets between us anymore. I want us to start afresh.”

She nodded and visibly swallowed.

“In that vein, I need to tell you something,” He paused. He had thought about what he was going to say, but he still hadn’t quite decided on how to say it. “You are aware that I was trying to find out whose heart I have.” He touched his chest. The newest scars hadn’t yet healed.

“Yes. I know.”

“I had someone find out. For a handsome fee, of course.”

She didn’t look shocked or surprised. But then, she wasn’t stupid. She must’ve known when he stopped asking that it meant something. He wasn’t the sort of person to give up on anything, especially not when it was impacting him – changing him – the way his heart was.

“The name they gave me was Danny Grey. Which is why I was acting like I was, watching football and doing that strange salute. Because they were things he did.”

“Which is why you named the foundation after him.”

He chuckled. She’d probably suspected as much for a while. Otherwise, why would he name his foundation after some random boy? One who had been in the news as a drug dealer and painted to be some kind of failure. But he wasn’t. Phillip had watched every piece of media he could find on him – and on Sophia. He must’ve watched Sophia’s interview 30 times. Her humanity, her forgiveness, her patience were all things he admired, and lacked.

“I wanted to tell you before, but I was concerned with how you would take the news. I know you didn’t want me trying to find out who my donor was.”

And, he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. There was something inside him that wanted to keep it a secret. He wanted to protect it from everyone. He didn’t want anyone tarnishing it. He didn't have much good in his life. But this was his and only his, locked away in his chest, only to be shared with those he trusted.

But who did he trust?

Telling Sophia had been natural. It had been right. And then she’d gone and told her imbecilic ‘fiancé’. Phillip already had enough to worry about without him butting his stupid head in. And yes, perhaps buying the football club and having him fired was a slight over reaction, but he couldn’t bring himself to be sorry for it.

Having Sandra know meant it was best to keep her close. Her threat of quitting had rattled him, but he’d talked her out of it quick enough. Which was good, because he would’ve done a lot more to make sure she stayed. He’d rewarded her for her loyalty, but he could just as easily destroy her for her treachery. He’d done it for lesser crimes.

He was trying to trust Cate, but after so many years, and all the things she’d done, it was near impossible. No matter how hard he wished he could, rebuilding trust that was destroyed so viciously was not something that could be done in a matter of days. She’d deceived and betrayed him more times than he could count. But nothing had been as bad as that first time.

“I didn’t want you getting hurt,” She replied. She seemed sincere enough.

The old Phillip would’ve made some malicious, aggressive comment at that. But he wasn’t that angry man anymore.

“Why would I be hurt?”

“Because you thought this heart was changing you. If you found out the heart had come from someone… Undesirable, I feared what you might do. There are rules about this for a reason.”

“There are. But money can buy almost anything, if you have enough of it. But it can’t buy loyalty or friendship or trust.”

She looked a touch concerned now, at what he might be leading up to. Which was something he was going to have to examine later. But he was going to do one investigation at a time.

“Do you trust Sandra?”

“Of course, I do. She’s been a wonderful nurse and a close friend,” She seemed almost offended he’d dare ask. Then she turned pensive. “You don’t trust her?”

“I did. Until she quit.”

“What do you mean she quit?”

He had almost suspected that Cate had known before he had. He’d thought the two women had become the best of friends. He was slightly smug to learn he’d known something she didn’t. And it seemed like Sandra had secrets of her own. Like this Thomas that Gladys had mentioned. Who was he, exactly? And was she deceptive enough to have lied to him about Danny? Or had she been lied to, by her transplant co-ordinator friend? Or had Sophia been lied to, in that letter? He was determined to find out, one way or another.

“She quit, but I convinced her to come back. At least, as my nurse. We’ll have to wait and see what she wants to do about the foundation.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It turns out she has more secrets than we thought. And so did I, but now you know about my heart,” He didn’t want to tell her about Sophia yet, not when he still wasn’t sure what there was to tell, “But what about you Cate, do you have anything you need to tell me?”

* * *

“Daddy!” Carrie yelled as she ran out the gate and into her father’s arms. The sadness that had hung around her all day seemed to have lifted at the sight of her father there to pick her up.

“Hello, munchkin. How was day-care today?”

“It was ok. Mummy Sophia is back!”

“Is she?” His eyes immediately went to search for her and found her hovering nearby. He gave her a wide smile. She tried to answer it.

She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but it was her job to make sure all the kids were picked up by a registered person and were safe. She was just doing her job.

“Hi. How are you? Are you feeling better?” David asked, timidly.

She felt guilty. She’d been avoiding him and they both knew it.

“I’m feeling a lot better, thanks.” It was a lie, but it was the best she could do. Any other answer would prompt more questions. Questions she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – answer.

“That’s good. I’ve missed you. We both have.”

“I’m sorry, things have just been a bit hectic and I wasn’t feeling well.”

“A text message doesn’t take a lot of effort.” He’d turned away to put Carrie in the car, but the hurt was obvious in his voice.

Instead of making her feel guiltier though, it infuriated her. They may have been engaged, but he didn’t own her. She didn’t owe him anything and he didn’t know what she’d been going through, partly because of him.

“I know it doesn’t. But I’ve been busy,” She replied, somewhat snappily.

“Too busy to send a two second message to the man you’re supposed to marry?” He’d stepped up close to her and she recoiled. He smelled of alcohol.

“Have you been drinking?”

“No,” He scoffed. He stepped back, but it was too late. She’d already smelled it.

She knew what she had to do. She couldn’t let Carrie get in the car with someone who’d been drinking. If something happened to her and she hadn’t said anything, it would be on her conscience forever. She’d never forgive herself. If it were any other parent or guardian, she wouldn’t hesitate. But this… This would hurt him. This would damage their already fragile relationship.

“Can you please get Carrie out of the car? We can get your mother to pick her up.” She looked around for her co-workers. They were both busy with other parents, but she was staring at them, hoping one of them would notice something was wrong and come over.

“David, if you don’t get her out of the car, I’m going to have to call the police. Please, don’t make this difficult.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He was glaring at her now.

“What’s going on here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will Cate say? What will she tell Phillip? What is going on with David?   
> So many questions!


	21. Chapter 21

“Do you think there’s something I’m not telling you?” Cate asked. The conversation about Bart’s blood type was still playing on her mind. Did he know? Was he giving her the chance to confess? Or was it a trap? It didn’t seem as if he was being deceptive or manipulative, but then he wasn’t usually the type to do that, preferring to find his evidence before ambushing her. He liked evidence, not speculation. And he’d employed numerous private detectives before to get it.

“I’m not accusing you of anything, I am simply trying to be honest with you and are asking that you extend the same courtesy.”

For the thousandth time, Cate wondered whether it really was the heart that had changed him – whoever he got it from – or if it was a near death epiphany or something else completely that had him acting like a human again.

Despite the years of fighting, she did believe him to be sincere. He truly was asking for honesty. Maybe if she was hiding something small or trivial, she could tell him. Or if she’d slept with Julian again, maybe even that he’d understand. They’d been down that road a million times.

But it wasn’t that simple.

She wondered if him already knowing half the story made things worse. She’d never seen such absolute heartbreak as when James told him about them having sex. He’d been betrayed in the worst way and she knew it. She knew how it would break him to find out. She’d simply trusted that he’d never find out. She wouldn’t have ever told him. And she’d thought, given it had been Phillip’s infertility they were trying to keep hidden, that James would never so much as hint at it.

But she’d been wrong. She’d underestimated their hatred for each other. And James unrelenting cruelty towards his son.

She hadn’t known immediately how dysfunctional the Walford men were. They had been more than eager to present a united front to the media – which had been what she was then, a young, naive journalist. After all, both men believed they needed to show strength at all times. If someone sensed weakness in the empire, they might try to exploit it, like they did in their competitors. That had always been the Walford way – show no weakness. Even as James lay dying, he was determined to appear formidable. Even to the last second. Phillip took after him in that way. Not that she’d dare point it out.

It hadn’t taken long after she and Phillip had become serious that she’d truly seen how much James had bullied and belittled him. Phillip had shown outward strength at every turn, determined to live up to his father’s image. But inside, he struggled every moment. James made sure to quash any real confidence as soon as it appeared. James wanted to control him. Yet another thing Phillip had tried with Bart. Though not to the same anywhere near the same extreme.

Cate had tried to rebuild Phillip’s confidence, tried to show him he was more than what James saw in him. But when he had found out the woman he loved and trusted, the only one who saw the real him and loved him for it, had slept with his father and tormentor, it had destroyed him. Worse that he’d been when they’d met. She didn’t blame him.

After that, all she could do was try to temper Phillip’s worst impulses, softening the blows against Bart, protecting her son. James may have ruined their lives, but he hadn’t ruined Bart. He’d thankfully died when Bart was only three, sparing him the pain of living beneath the elder Walford patriarch’s rule. James had hurt his first son. She’d have rather died than let him do the same to his second.

She hated James for everything he’d done to them, even as she was grateful for Bart. That was his only redeeming feature in all the mess and only she – and now Sandra – knew it. To everyone else, he’d died a irredeemable arsehole. Especially Phillip.

Bart was Cate’s pride and joy. The only thing she’d lived for the last three decades.

Which was why the secret had to stay that way. It wasn’t only about her and Phillip and their relationship. This involved Bart too. She couldn’t jeopardise him and his recovery, whatever form and however long that took.

She wouldn’t let him be broken. Not him too.

“I don’t have anything I’m keeping from you. Not since we have been trying this – us – again. I promise.”

He looked so relieved, and smiled at her, blue eyes dazzling. She was struck by how beautiful he was, as if seeing him through new eyes. He was beginning to trust her again.

Her stomach twisted in the old, familiar guilt. But she swallowed it down, like she’d done a million times before. He could never find out. It might kill him.

* * *

Sophia turned to see another father – and off duty police officer – Anthony, standing behind her and watching the interaction between herself and David.

“Um…” She struggled for what to say. She didn’t want to tell anyone about David’s apparent drinking problem. It didn’t seem like her business to say anything. Besides, David would probably hate her for it. He was already glaring like he wanted to scream at her or hit something. She didn’t think he’d hit her, but the way he was almost vibrating with anger, she sensed that energy had to go somewhere.

She might have threatened to call the police, but she hadn’t really meant it.

“Nothing. It’s none of your fucking business,” David spat at Anthony. His fists balled.

“It’s alright, thank you, Anthony.” She finally found her voice and hoped Anthony would know not to pursue the issue. She was sure that if she could just talk to David – and get him to listen – she could fix this.

Anthony wasn’t convinced.

“This is a day-care centre, please mind your language.”

“Or what?” David replied. He’d taken a step towards the other man. Anthony held his hands up, in the universal sign of ‘do not hit me’, but he didn’t look in the least bit intimidated.

“Please, calm down. Just let me call your mum to pick Carrie up.”

“No. I’m here. I’m picking her up. She’s my daughter. And soon she’ll be yours.”

She resisted the urge to sigh. It was obvious where Carrie got the idea of calling her mummy Sophia from. She wanted to tell him to knock it off, but he was mad enough already. That was an argument for another time.

“I think you should do as Mrs Grey says,” Anthony chimed in, using his conflict de-escalation voice. It only served to make David even more infuriated. His face was red with it.

“How about you leave us the fuck alone, mate. You aren’t a part of this. This is a personal matter, between me and my fiancée.”

In that moment, looking at his sneering face and hearing him call her his fiancée, she realised she couldn’t marry him. She’d been trying to force something that she now realised was wrong. It had felt a little off from the beginning, but she’d let herself be romanced by the idea of falling in love again. The moment he’d proposed moving to Melbourne, she’d known it was the end, but she hadn’t let herself accept it.

Now, she acknowledged it and knew she had to end things, sooner rather than later.

At this point, David had approached Anthony and was squaring up.

“Have you been drinking, sir?” Anthony asked.

David let out a feral growl and stepped closer until he was toe to toe with the police officer.

“David, please. Take a step back.” She tried to grab his arm and pull him away, but he snatched it out of his grip.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to take a step back and calm down,” His voice was firmer now, but David didn’t seem to care.

“Fuck you.”

“I am an off-duty cop and if you don’t step back right now, we’re gonna take a ride to the station.”

The colour drained from his face as he stepped back. He shot another glare at her, but Sophia ignored it. He’d made a fool of himself and of her.

“I’m going to call in one of the officers to bring a breathalyser. Mrs Grey, I suggest you take the girl back inside while I wait out here with your fiancée.”

She didn’t argue, just unbuckled Carrie, who’d been watching the whole thing with wide, scared eyes. She carried her back into the playground and sat her on a bench where the kids ate their lunch. She knelt in front of her and tried to reassure her. But the words felt hollow. She didn’t know if things would be alright. David had changed. He seemed to be struggling with being fired.

She hoped him telling him that she couldn’t marry him wouldn’t push him further towards whichever edge he was currently teetering on. But it wasn’t her responsibility to coddle him and she didn’t owe him anything. Except the ring back. And an apology.

* * *

Bart was wheeled back into his hospital room sometime later. Gladys was there to make sure he was settled and had anything he might need.

“Hello, Mr Walford,” She greeted, “I’m Gladys and I’ll be your nurse today.”

She looked at him for the first time since he’d woken up, assessing him. He looked healthy, or at least, as much as could be expected, given the circumstances. The fact he’d survived was a medical marvel, as far as she was concerned. She hadn’t been his nurse in the early days, but she’d heard the stories from those who had been. It hadn’t been a pretty sight, when he’d first arrived. Most had thought him already dead or a lost cause. But he’d proven them wrong. He was as head-strong as his father – literally. He was like his father in other ways too. He had the same blue eyes and straight nose, but in most other ways he more closely resembled his mother. Which was a shame, because his father was a handsome man at 55 and Gladys wondered what he’d looked like as a 30-year-old.

“My name’s Bart. Please. Mr Walford is my father.”

“Speaking of your father, it’s funny how I’ve been your father’s nurse these last few weeks and now I’m yours,” She chuckled.

He just looked at her, confused, “What happened to dad? Is he ok? Were we in an accident? Is that why I’m here?”

Gladys realised her mistake too late. Clearly no one had yet explained to Bart what had happened – at least not completely. She assumed the police would need to speak to him before too long and she didn’t know what they’d want him to know before then.

“I can’t tell you too much, because the police will need to question you, but did you want me to call your father? Your mother? Wife? I can call one of them to come sit with you, if you’d like. They might be able to answer some of your questions.”

“Wife? I’m married?” He was openly gaping at her now and she figured she’d put her foot in it again.

He obviously had memory loss of some kind. He’d had a hugely traumatic brain injury. It would’ve been almost strange if he hadn’t suffered any memory loss. Though whether it would return or not was not her area of expertise.

“You’ve had a bit of a long day. Maybe it would be a good idea to have a nap? I can bring you some proper food in an hour or so.”

During the time he’d been in a coma he’d been fed through a tube. She was sure that a nice solid meal, even a small, gross hospital food one, would be a relief.

“Yeah. That sounds good.” He gave a large yawn and she laughed. He was apparently quite susceptible to suggestion.

“Sleep tight.” She backed out of the room, almost running behind first into his police escort. She nodded to them before practically fleeing down the corridor.

She hoped when he woke up again, he wouldn’t remember anything she’d said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look. If it isn't the consequences of their own actions coming to bite them on the arse. People will get their comeuppance, don't worry. We still have a little ways to go though. 
> 
> No cliffhanger this week, because I'm feeling especially charitable xD


	22. Chapter 22

The pills Georgia had stolen from the hospital were _good_. Much better than the weak pills she’d been prescribed. The doctor had apparently been holding out on her. They were better even than the ones Mikael had given her. She’d have to yell at him for that later. She’d paid him a lot for what he’d given her. And she deserved nothing but the best. If he was trying to rip her off, she wasn’t going to be happy. But surely he wouldn’t do that to her? She thought they were friends.

Speaking of Mikael, he’d been off the radar since the drop off and she wondered exactly where he was. Maybe he could come and keep her company. Being stuck in the hotel room alone was starting to drive her a little crazy. So much that the drugs were barely taking the edge off. She’d scrolled through every social media ever created and watched shitty daytime TV to the point of numbness.

She almost welcomed the idea of her mother coming to stay with her. She’d been threatening it since she’d been released from hospital, but so far, Georgia had managed to fend her off. Her mother was supposed to be in rehab. She’d told Mikael she’d be locked away, without any access to the outside world. But obviously when Georgia had been shot, her plans changed. Georgia wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing with herself, except ringing her every day to check up on her. The idea of being stuck in a tiny room with her mother for any amount of time was a nightmare, let alone days at a time. But she was bored.

She didn’t want to share her pills and she knew if her mother so much as saw them, she’d want them too. Especially not these new, strong ones. But Georgia liked these and wanted them all to herself. She wanted more, but how to get them? Maybe she’d need to go visit her beloved husband again?

* * *

Phillip waited until Cate was busy somewhere and snuck himself carefully, and slowly (since he was still using a cane) into his office. He didn’t want her finding him in there for several reasons. The first was that he was supposed to be on bed rest and she’d no doubt scold him for not abiding by it. The second of which was that he was there on clandestine business. Her finding out would only complicate matters. If she needed to know – if there was anything to know – he’d tell her later.

So much for no more secrets between them.

He hadn’t had much reason to use private investigators recently. Not since Gareth. He hadn’t even used them on Cate or Bart in several years, but then, he knew them better than anyone else and he certainly knew what they looked like when they were lying. He’d let them think he couldn’t read their tells, but he’d long ago memorized them It suited him just fine to have them think he hadn’t though.

Not to mention, having them living under his roof gave him better surveillance opportunities than a private investigator might get anyway. They might be able to hide one or two small secrets from him, but he was confident that anything else, anything big, he’d find out in due time. He’d discovered all Cate’s lovers and Bart’s relationship with Georgia after all.

He picked one of the many business cards from his file. One of a man who he’d used multiple times and who’d never let him down.

“Hello, detective Joe Hansen speaking, how may I help you?”

Joe was a master of finding secrets. He could sniff them out like a bloodhound. And the speed was unlike any other. Many had tried to purposely stretch the hours, knowing the billionaire could afford it. But not Joe. He was efficient and could somehow find himself exactly where he needed to be to get what he needed. He was unremarkable looking, able to fit in everywhere. The things Phillip had seen him discover were mind-boggling. Sure, hadn’t discovered Gareth’s deepest, darkest secret, but he hadn’t needed to. He discovered Georgia and Bart’s dalliances and that had been enough. Georgia volunteering to provide her ‘services’ had done the rest.

Joe was the best detective Phillip had ever found and he trusted him to do a good job on this one too. He could be discrete and invisible. Exactly what he needed.

“Hello, Joe. It’s Phillip Walford. I have a job for you, if you’re interested.”

“For you, Mr Walford, I can make time. What do you need?”

* * *

Sophia watched David take the breathalyzer test from her spot beside Carrie on the playground bench. He still looked angry, but thankfully all the other kids and their adults had left, lessening the humiliation of the entire exercise. She wasn’t sure how many other people had overheard or guessed what was happening. Her co-workers at least knew what was going on, but she’d assured them she could handle it and they’d left too, but not before giving her sympathetic looks. They knew who David was. It was hard not to, when Carrie had proudly told everyone about her new mum and the ring sat heavy on her finger.

But she didn’t know how she was going to handle this whole mess. How could she explain this to Carrie, who so desperately wanted her to be her mother? And to Bella, who’d encouraged her to pursue this thing with David? To her co-workers and friends? And to David, who said he loved her?

Looking at it now, with the benefit of hindsight, she doubted he actually loved her. It was more that he loved the idea of her as the mother, the wife, the supporter. But asking her to marry him immediately, asking her to move to Melbourne, telling Carrie she was her new mum... It had all been forced on her before she was ready, trying to squash her into a mould she didn’t fit in. And she wouldn’t ever be ready. She would never fit.

And she didn’t want to.

She turned back to Carrie, who seemed confused, but not too upset. Sophia envied kids for their ability to roll with the punches. Things might upset them, but they usually recovered quicker than adults could ever hope to achieve. Carrie didn’t understand that her dad had lost his job and had apparently taken up a drinking habit. She just thought her dad was acting a bit different than normal.

“Mrs Grey?” Anthony interrupted.

“Yes? Is he alright?” She stood and glanced back over to where David was now standing, arms crossed and looking smug.

“He’s under the limit. He’s free to take Carrie home now.”

“Are you ready to go home with your dad?” She asked Carrie, who nodded enthusiastically. “Alright, off you go then.”

Carrie ran across the playground and into her dad’s arms, as she had only half an hour earlier. David hugged her and looked at Sophia. He still looked annoyed and he gestured for her to come join them, but she shook her head and turned back to Anthony.

She noticed how the police officer had said that he wasn’t 100% sober, instead saying that he was sober enough to drive.

“Thank you for your help, Anthony. I’m not sure how I would’ve dealt with that otherwise.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine. But we’ve dealt with it now.”

They both looked over to see David still watching them, looking increasingly unhappy. She didn’t want to talk to him. Not now. She just wanted him to go. Anthony must’ve seen as much on her face.

“Do you want me to tell him to leave?”

“Can you? I need to lock up and everything. I don’t think I can talk to him right now.”

“No worries. I’ll make sure he leaves.”

“Thank you.”

She could’ve hugged him with appreciation, except it would’ve been incredibly inappropriate and she could sense David was still staring at them. She knew his jealous streak and had no doubt she’d hear all about it later. Still, she gave Anthony a grateful smile and hurried off to finish locking up, so she could escape home as soon as possible. She wasn’t convinced that David wouldn’t just drive around the block and come back to see her. To be fair, she wouldn’t exactly be safe at home, since he could most definitely turn up there, but she hoped he’d take the hint and give her space.

* * *

Bella had a good first day back at university. It had been good to be back So much had happened since she’d last been there. It felt like forever and she enjoyed being back with her friends. As she expected, they had plenty of questions about the Danny Grey Foundation, but they dropped it quickly enough for it not to become too overwhelming, for which she was incredibly grateful. After all, she’d been in the paper once. She was hardly a celebrity.

Still, she saw some glances her way from strangers. More than usual. Especially when word spread, which it inevitably did. She heard snippets here and there, of the rumours. She was the dead drug dealer footballer’s little sister and was ‘profiting’ off his death. She’d expected it and tried to ignore it the best she could. But she couldn’t help wishing she’d gone through with the surgery, so at least the stares wouldn’t include quite so much disgust, only curiosity.

She hadn’t asked for the attention. She hated it. But she had to remember that as uncomfortable as it made her, she was doing it for good reasons. Danny would’ve wanted people to learn about becoming donors. He would’ve been proud of her. He’d always wanted her to step outside her comfort zone, sometimes trying to pull her out, kicking and screaming. And finally, he’d succeeded.

It was almost funny, that he got his way, but wasn’t there to see it.

All that meant she was glad when music class rolled around, her last class of the day, and she could hide herself in the music rooms. It was her safe space and meant she could unwind, play her feelings out through songs. It was what she was best at.

“Hello, class,” Her professor greeted. “Welcome back to another year. Or, to the new students, welcome. We’re happy to have you.”

Bella looked around and found there were three new students. Two males and a female. The guys looked like the typical musician types, with long, unkempt hair and more piercings than Bella could count. They each had a guitar case beside them.

The girl though, had a violin case. She also had long, wavy, red hair that Bella instantly envied. When the girl turned to look at her, she smiled, and Bella was struck by her intense emerald eyes.

Bella didn’t want to dislike this girl, just because she was pretty. And of course, she played the violin. Bella wished she could play a string instrument, especially the violin. But the one time she’d picked one up, she’d managed to give herself a headache and snapped two strings. It was decided that maybe she should just stick to piano. Besides, she thought that with piano, she didn’t face the audience. She could hide behind the lid and her bushy, boring, brown hair and no one would need to see her.

It was for the best that way.

She made a mental note to reschedule her surgery for as soon as possible.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter I've uploaded today. If you haven't read chapter 22, go back and read that one first.

Sandra got home and wanted to just collapse on the couch, eat entirely too much food and have a nap. But first, she had to see her mother and Thomas.

“Mum? Are you here?” She called, sticking her head into the living room. Seeing it empty, she continued down the hall towards the kitchen.

“Sandra? Is that you?” Her mother called out.

Sandra found her mother and Thomas at the dining table, eating lunch.

“What are you doing here? Did you finally quit again?” Her mother asked, eyes assessing over the top of her glasses.

“Not yet. Soon though. I promise.” She sat heavily in one of the chairs and took over feeding Thomas without a word. Her mother was still watching her.

“I worry about you, you know,” Her mother sighed. She sounded as if Sandra were acting like a teenager, staying out all night, partying and getting into trouble. It was a tone she remembered from her teen years. It still had the same effect on her – making her defensive.

“You don’t have to worry.” It didn’t sound convincing.

“Sandra, I wish you would talk to me. You used to be able to tell me anything.”

“I can’t. If anyone else found out, it wouldn’t just be me in trouble. It would be Cate and Phillip and Bart. And other people, innocent people too.”

“Are they some type of mafia? I know the boy and his new wife were shot.”

“They aren’t the mafia, mum. They were shot because of Georgia, not Bart.”

She’d been there when the police had knocked on the hospital door to ask Cate and Phillip if someone would’ve wanted to hurt Bart. And despite all evidence to the contrary – namely the bullet hole through his skull – Bart didn’t have any enemies. Phillip might’ve, but not Bart. Never Bart. Of all the terrible things she’d heard the Walford family do, Bart was responsible for none of them. The only thing he’d ever done wrong was love someone he shouldn’t. But who hadn’t?

Although, Georgia was something else. Sandra was still not quite sure what to make of her, because she never seemed to be the same person twice. Sandra felt immense sympathy for her, for all the things she’d been through, but there was something off about her that Sandra couldn’t quite put her finger on. Not that she’d seen her at her best. That lunch hadn’t brought out the best in anyone.

She was surprised everyone had survived as unscathed as they had.

Her mother was right though. If there was anyone She could trust, anyone who would listen without judgement, it was her mother. She’d struggled for so long, keeping all the secrets and lies to herself. Maybe it was best to share the burden. Her mother always knew what to say and what to do. She could help.

“Mum, if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone else. Promise?”

“I promise.” If possible, her mum looked even more troubled.

“Well, I have to go back to the early 90’s…”

Her mother listened with rapt attention. She gasped as Sandra told her about Bart not being Phillip’s, but instead being James’ son. Sandra hesitated to tell her about her and Cate’s plan to tell him his heart was Danny Grey’s, but she needed to get it off her chest. Hearing Sophia and Phillip talking at the lunch had shot guilt through her like an electric shock. She had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t hurting anyone. It was a harmless lie, that was helping Phillip, not hurting him. And Sophia need never know the truth either.

But her mother didn’t seem to see it that way.

“Sandra, you have to tell him the truth about his heart,” She demanded, as soon as Sandra’s stream of consciousness confession ended.

“I can’t. I tried, in my resignation letter. But telling him to his face? He’d kill me. Or himself, with the stress of it. I can’t.”

“You’ll kill yourself with the stress. Look at you. You’ve changed. You’re hardly home and when you are, you’re so distracted you can barely even concentrate on your son for more than a second.”

She glanced at Thomas guiltily. She couldn’t deny her mum’s words and they only served to make her feel worse. Of course, she knew it was bad. All the lies and secret keeping was the worst thing she’d ever done. It was eating her up. But would telling him really make her feel better or would it only make everything worse?

She didn’t know and she hoped she’d never find out. She hadn’t meant for things to go this far.

* * *

Bella collapsed on the couch next to her mum. They sat in silence for a long time.

“Do you ever wonder how you got yourself into this mess?” She asked. Her mother nodded wearily.

“Pretty much daily.”

“Oh good. I thought it was just me.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Do you?”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

* * *

Phillip’s phone disturbed his breakfast. Sandra, having arrived back early that morning from her day off, had been hovering after giving him his pills. He waved her off.

“Hello, Phillip Walford speaking,” He answered the ringing phone. He knew who it was, since the caller I.D. told him, but the old habit of answering had been so ingrained in him that sometimes it refused to leave, no matter how hard he tried.

“Hello, Mr Walford. I have the results of the assignment.”

“And..?” He prompted.

“This was the most boring assignment I’ve ever been on. She went to her house and stayed there. No visitors, no calls. Nothing. Just her mother and disabled son at home.”

“Disabled son?” Phillip asked. This was news to him.

“Yeah. I did some digging and found some local news articles. Apparently, he fell off a skateboard. Sustained a serious head injury. He’s confined to a wheelchair, with limited communication. No sign of his father, though he’s still alive.”

He hadn’t known. He hadn’t so much as suspected. He could only imagine the pain of having a child be hurt so badly and becoming so irreparably changed. But then, Bart had been lucky.

“What’s the son’s name?”

“Thomas.”

Suddenly, Gladys’s comments made sense.

How had he known Sandra for a year, but not known she had a son? Let alone one who required such constant care. And without a husband? How was she able to work and live here, leaving her son like that? And what else was she hiding?

“Thank you, Joe. You’ll have your payment by the end of the day.”

“Not a problem, Mr Walford.”

The detective hung up and Phillip sat for a few moments in silence. He frowned. Sandra hadn’t been honest with them. If she was willing to hide such a big part of her life from them, what else was she willing to hide?

Cate was closer to Sandra than he was. They had their secret women’s discussions. He knew that much. He’d always assumed they were discussing him, at least a little bit. Perhaps it was just gossip. Or maybe it was more than that. Now, he wasn’t sure. They were two of the most prominent women in his life – along with Sophia, of course – and he thought he could trust them. Mostly.

Perhaps he’d been wrong.

“Cate?!” He called. For a few seconds, there was no reply, but then he heard her steps hurrying down the hallway.

“Yes?” She replied, stepping into the room.

“You would consider yourself and Sandra close friends, wouldn't you?”

“Yes, I would.” She looked suspicious and confused by his sudden line of questioning. He knew it was obvious, from his questioning after Bart’s awakening and now, that there was something on his mind.

“Did you know she has a son?”

“Yes. Why?” Her frown only deepened.

“Do you know his name? Age? Did you know he’s disabled?”

“His name’s Thomas. And yes, I had the pleasure of meeting him.”

“So, she wasn’t hiding things from us?”

“What’s wrong, Phillip? Has something happened between you two?” She’d crossed her arms, looking down at him, expression guarded.

Her question took him by surprise. It sounded almost like an accusation.

“You don’t imagine I’m sleeping with her, do you?” He asked, almost laughingly. The idea of it was absurd, though his gut churned at the remembrance of Sophia’s lips, so soft against his, if only for a moment.

Every second he didn’t hear from her again had him feeling worse. But he couldn’t bring himself to call. Not until he knew the truth. He owed her that, at the very least.

That, and an apology.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on that right now.

“No. Of course not,” She seemed offended at the very suggestion. “I just thought you trusted her.”

“I do. Or, I did. But someone’s lying and the way she’s been acting lately has me more than a little concerned.”

“Lying about what? Why do you think she’s lying to you?” Cate asked.

“Because she was the one who told me I had Danny’s heart. And someone else told me I don’t.”

“Who told you that and why would you believe them over Sandra?”

“Because he’s right, Cate. I lied.” Sandra interrupted. Phillip and Cate turned to her, shocked.

“What?”

* * *

University was busy, but Bella liked being busy. With the Walford’s out of commission, the Danny Grey Foundation was on hold. She wasn’t too upset by that. Between her courses, band practices, and organising Martina’s party, she barely had time to think. Still, being busy felt good. It meant she had a purpose. School holidays always led to a little too much self-reflection and not enough music. It used to mean long days at the football ground, but those days were long over, thank God.

Of course, music wasn’t always perfect. Her professor had decided that, as a first assignment, they were to pair up with someone they didn’t usually play with (which precluded all her friends) and prepare a performance. Assignments like that would always have her sweating. Working with strangers and having them critique her playing was her worst nightmare. Her social anxiety didn’t deal well with it. But music was her best subject, so it wasn’t as bad as having someone look over her maths homework, otherwise she might simply die from the embarrassment and shame.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, she was approached at the end of the lecture by the new girl, whose name she’d discovered was Aisling, via some gossip with her friends. For some reason, this girl intrigued and annoyed Bella in equal measure.

“Hi. I’m Ash.”

“I’m Bella.”

“I know. You’re kind popular around here,” She laughed, and it was a musical sound, like an arpeggio. Up this close, Bella could see she even had an artistic spatter of faded freckles across her nose and cheeks, as if she needed to be any more flawless. Bella felt like an ugly witch in comparison.

“I am? Because of Danny?”

“Danny?” Ash looked perplexed.

“My brother, who died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” And she looked sorry too. Bella had heard it enough times to know when someone was just saying it to seem kind.

But the name didn’t seem to ring any bells for her either. If she didn’t know who he was, how did she know Bella?

“It’s alright. It’s just, he became kind of famous, after.” She wasn’t going to mention why he became famous. Or rather infamous, depending on who you asked. If Ash didn’t know why, Bella certainly wasn’t going to tell her.

“I didn’t know.”

They stood awkwardly for a few moments that felt far too long, before Ash broke the tension.

“I was just wondering if you’d want to be my partner? For the assignment? Everyone says you’re the best pianist in the class,” Bella tried not to look to shocked at that, as Ash rushed on, “And violin goes much better with piano than with guitar.” She looked afraid Bella might say no. But she’d also dreaded having to work with an instrument which didn’t suit, so she easily agreed. Ash’s smile was radiant, as if her day had just been made.

Bella hoped she wouldn’t screw it up, but the churning in her stomach told her she was more nervous for this than she had been in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're kinda working out way closer to the end. 
> 
> Poor Sandra. She seemed like such a nice person before she met the Walford's.


	24. Chapter 24

Bart didn’t recognise the two men standing beside his doctor, but he did know they were plain clothes detectives, even before they’d announced themselves. They just had that air about them.

“Hello, Mr Walford. I’m detective Taylor. Your doctor tells me that you probably won’t be able to help us, but it’s standard procedure, of course,” The older, gruffer detective began.

Bart looked to his doctor for guidance. She didn’t look happy.

“She says you have memory loss, is that correct?” He flipped open a notebook.

“I don’t remember how I got here. Was my family in an accident?” He asked. He hadn’t been conscious for long, mostly sleeping on and off. He was coming down off whatever drugs they’d had him on, so even when he had been awake, his memory was hazy, not sure what had been real or imagined. But he seemed to remember seeing his parents. He was fairly certain that had been real. They’d seemed ok. Or maybe he’d dreamt it.

He couldn’t quite be sure of anything anymore.

“Mr Walford, you and your wife were attacked. We are trying to find out who might have wanted to hurt you.”

“My wife?” Now he mentioned it, he seemed to remember a nurse saying something about a wife. But surely, he wouldn’t have forgotten getting married? And he wasn’t wearing a ring.

“Georgia Konig, now Walford,” The younger detective supplied.

Konig... The name sounded familiar. He turned it over in his mind. Something clicked after a long moment.

“Konig. Like dad’s competitor, Gareth Konig?”

The two detectives shared a look he couldn’t even begin to understand. Even his doctor looked upset at the mention of the man. He wanted to ask (maybe they knew about his mother’s affair?), but he was quickly cut off.

“Yes. Mr Konig was her father.”

Was? So, he was dead? How much time had he missed exactly?

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself and stop the rapidly encroaching headache.

“I don’t know her. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt me. Can someone just tell me what happened?” He couldn’t hide his frustration. He wanted straight answers.

“Both you and Mrs Walford,” _his wife,_ he reminded himself, “Were shot. You were shot in the head and her in the stomach.”

“Is she ok?” He might not remember her, but he should ask, shouldn’t he?

“She had to have a few surgeries. But she’s been discharged and is recovering,” Doctor Bui replied.

“Oh. Good.” He felt relieved, if only that he wouldn’t have to grieve someone he didn’t know, but apparently loved.

His head gave a particularly painful throb. His hands clutched at it and his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t cry out, but it was a close thing.

He tuned back in to hear his doctor ushering the detectives out of the room.

“... He may regain some or all of his memories in time. The brain has a wonderful capacity for healing. But right now, what he needs is rest. I’ll have the officers on guard call you immediately if he remembers anything.”

They shuffled out, with only a few muttered complaints. Bart couldn’t bring himself to care. When he opened his eyes, only his doctor remained.

“Here, Mr Walford. Take this.”

A pill and a glass of water were placed into his hands. He obediently swallowed and allowed sleep to claim him again. 

* * *

“What do you mean?” Cate was looking at Sandra with wide eyes and a slightly hysterical edge to her voice. Sandra didn’t blame her. If she were in her shoes, she’d be terrified too.

But she’d thought about this. If Phillip wanted answers, he was going to get them, no matter what it took. And if he dug far enough, he’d find out it was Cate’s idea to lie about it. The consequences for them and their newly rekindled relationship would be dire, and Sandra didn’t think she would stand by and watch that happen. She couldn’t let the people she’d come to regard as family fall apart again. Not when they were only just repairing their lives. Between Phillip’s health, Cate’s infidelity and Bart’s recovery, they had more than enough to worry about.

It was simpler if she took the fall for all of it. She was going to get fired anyway – even if Cate’s role was discovered – despite her efforts to quit being so casually dismissed. But if she could spare Cate this much, she’d do it. She knew she couldn’t spare Cate and Phillip the ‘ _Bart not being Phillip’s son’_ bombshell – which would no doubt destroy them beyond all hope if he ever found out – but she could do this. It had to be enough. She hoped that all their other secrets would stay that way – secret.

But she knew things had a way of being discovered eventually.

“I’m sorry, Cate. But I lied to Phillip. I told him his heart was Danny’s.”

Cate seemed to know what she was doing, and she looked stricken. Sandra shook her head, silently urging her not to say or do anything rash. Phillip never needed to know about her involvement, if she just stayed quiet.

Besides, his clear blue eyes were sharp and piercing, trained on Sandra like a hawk. He couldn’t see Cate’s reaction to Sandra’s words. But his reaction was a quiet, cold fury. Sandra felt herself freezing up.

She forced herself to breathe. She could do this. She _had_ to do this.

“Why? Why did you lie?” Phillip demanded. He was truly terrifying like this.

But Sandra stood strong.

“I knew you wanted an answer and wouldn’t get one. No transplant therapist would dare break their oath. I saw Danny and Sophia Grey all over the news and it seemed too good to be true. You wanted an answer and I could give you a convincing one.”

“But why? Was it for the money? We were paying you more than handsomely. You’ll never find another job paying even half as much. I’ll make sure of it.”

She had to swallow her every instinct and say, “Yes. I needed the money for my family.”

“Your son, Thomas, who you never once mentioned in your year working for us?”

She briefly wondered how he knew about Thomas, but her mind dismissed it before the question was even finished. That wasn’t the important thing at that moment.

“Yes. He needs constant care. My mother helps where she can, but she’s getting older. I needed to be able to make sure they’re both looked after, if anything happened to me.”

Maybe she should’ve kept the money. It would’ve done so much good in both hers and Thomas's lives. But it was practically theft and she couldn’t have lived with herself if she did. She’d done the right thing, giving it back to Cate, to donate wherever she felt best.

“Why didn’t you talk to us? We may have been willing to help, had you bothered to ask. Instead, you betrayed us.” He looked so wounded, beneath the indignation and anger.

He had definitely changed from the vicious, empty shell of a man she’d first met. It was funny, but Cate’s plan had worked – he’d gained his humanity back. But at what cost? Her soul? Sophia’s trust? Cate’s honesty?

It hurt to have him think the worst of her, but she couldn’t back down now. It was ultimately to protect him. She blinked back the tears and took deep steadying breaths.

“I couldn’t ask for help. I refuse to ask for charity.”

“I gave you a job with the foundation and a considerable pay rise. No other mere nurse could say as much.”

“A job I never wanted nor asked for!” Her frustration about that was real enough. But she forced herself to remain calm. “And that was after I’d given you his name anyway. It was too late.”

“Sandra...” Cate said, clearly wanting to diffuse the situation. But Phillip cut her off before she could say anything else.

“You will pack all of your things and you will leave this house. Now. You will receive no further pay and no references. As far as I’m concerned, you never worked here.”

“Phillip, please,” Cate begged.

He ignored her.

“You’re lucky I’m letting you walk away without criminal charges or forcing you to give the money back, in full. But that’s where my generosity ends. And if I hear a whisper of any of this in the news, you’ll feel the full force of my anger.”

She’d known the outcome before she’d walked in. She thought she’d been ready and willing to go. But having him glaring at her, as if he hated her, was almost more than she could bear. These people had become like family. Their relationship was certainly complicated and dysfunctional enough to be so. Now, she was being disowned.

“I’m sorry,” She said simply.

She turned and walked out. She tried not to let the tears fall until the door slammed shut behind her.

* * *

David was pissed – both figuratively and literally. He’d been drinking for hours and he was so angry at Sophia that he was seeing red. She’d treated him as if he were some kind of monster. She thought he’d put Carrie in danger. He knew they had different ideas on some things, but that was beyond anything he’d ever expected from her. He never thought she could be such an unrepentant bitch. He’d just lost his job, his livelihood, and she was treating him like scum. If she had been aiming to further destroy his life, she’d done a pretty good job of it.

To add insult to injury, she’d been ignoring his messages and calls, since the bullshit at the day-care. He should just turn up at her door and force her to talk to him, but she would no doubt just make him feel like shit again. Maybe she’d even call her cop friend and have him arrested, as well as humiliated.

It was all the Walford’s fault, no doubt. She’d never acted this stuck up before she’d met them. Clearly just being near them was enough to have her acting like a spoilt brat, pretending she was too good for him. Their snobby attitudes were rubbing off on her and he didn’t like it. Especially Phillip. He might act like a gentleman, but David saw right through it. He wanted Sophia and David wasn’t going to let her go that easily. He’d fist fight him if he had to. His smug face deserved it. How dare he try to get his fiancé to keep secrets from him? That might be the way the Walford marriage worked (and judging by Bart’s behaviour, it must be in their genes), but David wouldn’t allow it. Sophia was his and she’d tell him everything. She probably told _Phillip_ everything. She’d probably already told him all about it.

After the stunt she pulled, he didn’t trust her not to blab to everyone. She practically called him an alcoholic to his face. And in front of everyone. In front of Carrie. If that’s what she’d said to him, what was she saying behind his back?

He’d need to have a talk with her and let her know exactly what he thought of her behaviour and that he wouldn’t tolerate that shit when they were married.

* * *

Sophia didn’t feel like partying. She just wanted to stay home and feel sorry for herself. But Bella had spent a lot of time, effort and money on Martina's party, so she wasn’t going to miss it.

Besides, Marti was like her daughter. She almost had been, would’ve been, had she and Danny made it to the altar. And despite their rough patches, she loved and forgave her. After all, she’d lost the love of her life. She deserved a breakdown. Sophia didn’t blame her, as much as she’d been hurt by it. She’d lost Danny too.

Marti deserved a proper send off, on her adventures overseas. She deserved to find what happiness she could. Sophia knew better than most what losing a loved one meant, losing her parents, husband and son. If Marti could be happy in Europe, maybe finding someone new to love, Sophia would support her 100%.

She just hoped David wasn’t going to be in attendance. She didn’t know what to say to him and she certainly didn’t want to make a scene at Martina’s party. Bella said she made everything about herself and that would just confirm it. She didn’t want that any more than anyone else did.

She needed more time.

* * *

Phillip had trusted Sandra. And considering his track record with trusting people and having that trust broken – first his father, then his father and Cate and then Cate, over and over – he was surprised at himself. He’d truly thought Sandra was worthy of his trust and support. But more fool him. Serves him right for letting his guard down. He should know better by now, not to trust anyone.

He’d never make that mistake again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Sandra is gone. Phillip is distrusting. Cate escaped a terrible fate. 
> 
> Or maybe all of those are lies?


	25. Chapter 25

It wasn’t a surprise party, as such. Martina knew it was happening, she just hadn’t been involved in any of the actual planning. She’d approved the time, date and guest list. After that, everything else was up to Bella.

And Marc. Which had been a surprise. He hadn’t exactly struck Bella as a party planner, but he’d been invaluable. She hadn’t had as much time as she’d like, having jumped headfirst back into uni life, especially music. So, when he’d volunteered to drive and pick-up supplies, lent a hand with calling people and arranging the catering, Bella had been eternally grateful. Marti's parents were supplying the money and were willing to help with some things, like colour scheme and menu, but when it came to the more hands-on stuff, they weren’t able to help as much.

But it was done. Everything was organised and guests had started arriving to the hall they’d rented. The room looked gorgeous, filled with strings of lights. It wasn’t a super fancy venue – not like the place they’d been for launch of the foundation – but it was big enough for all Marti’s friends and family. And it was commonly used as the reception hall for weddings. Maybe if things had been different, this would’ve been where Danny and Marti would’ve hosted theirs.

But as it was, Marti was about to get on a plane and who knew if she’d ever be back.

“Bella,” Marc called. He’d arrived with an armful of last-minute supplies. It looked heavy, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat. She was pretty sure she’d have broken an arm carrying even half as much.

“Hey,” She smiled and took a few of the lighter items, confetti and streamers, from the top of the pile, as if it would lighten the load. They wandered over to a table at the back and began unloading the bag of goodies. 

“What do you think? It looks alright, doesn’t it?” She’d tried not to go overboard with colour or decoration. This wasn’t a Halloween party. She’d aimed for simple and elegant, with understated silver and purple, Marti’s favourite colours.

“It looks amazing. You’ve done an amazing job.”

She tried not to blush as she replied, “We’ve done an amazing job.”

He grinned back.

Her heart gave a jolt at that. It wasn’t like the heart pounding excitement of old, but she couldn’t deny she still found him attractive.

“Hey, Marco!” A group of footballers and their significant others had arrived.

“Hey, guys!” He looked at Bella again, as if asking permission.

“Go ahead and have fun.”

“Thanks, Bella. You’re the best.” And then he was gone.

She sighed. He was being sweeter than ever. Honestly, she was surprised she’d stuck to her own decision not to date him. But she knew they just weren’t compatible. At least she’d found a friend though. She was grateful for that.

While she looked around the room at all the smiling faces, she discovered that she wasn’t as anxious as she usually would be in a crowded room. She knew almost everyone there and those she didn’t know didn’t seem so scary to her anymore. She wasn’t afraid of being seen like she had been. She wasn’t sure when the change had happened. But she liked it.

It might have something to do with hanging out with Ash, which she’d done a few times since they’d agreed to work together on their class project. Which seemed like a strange thing to think, since Ash was the most beautiful woman Bella had ever seen in person. Even more than the poise and grace of Georgia Konig. Being around someone so gorgeous and talented – she was an incredible violinist – should’ve made her feel even more inadequate than usual. But Ash didn’t seem to care how Bella looked. She constantly praised her playing and they got along incredibly, and surprisingly, well. Ash had put her on edge, the first time. Bella wasn’t sure why exactly. Maybe it was envy or being intimidated by her looks. And honestly, pretty girls tended to be the ones who picked on Bella the worst. More than the boys, because while they laughed at her and rejected her, the girls had reminded her of everything she wasn’t and would never be. Not popular. Not pretty. Not smart. Not funny.

But Ash was different. She was a bit like Marti. While Marti was pretty and popular, she’d never once made Bella feel like less than her. That’s one of the things Danny had loved about her.

Bella was going to miss Marti, but at least from the sadness, came happiness and hope. She hoped Marti found everything she wanted on her travels.

* * *

Georgia was running out of drugs and excuses. She had a follow up appointment with her doctor, and she couldn’t avoid it any longer. She reluctantly dragged herself out of the bed that had become her home and slowly dressed. For some reason, all her clothes seemed suddenly too big. She figured she hadn’t been eating that much, in fact she could barely remember the last time she’d eaten a proper meal. But she was recovering from a traumatic event. It couldn’t be surprising, could it? Anyone in her shoes would be the same.

She reached for the bag of pills on the bedside table but stopped herself. The doctor would probably be able to tell if she was drugged up, so while she hated it, she pulled her hand away and left.

Approaching the hospital, she felt nerves beginning to get the better of her, as she began to shake and sweat. She feared what the doctor would say. She’d already had the most devastating news; she would never have children. The truth of it still hadn’t quite sunk in though. She hadn’t been trying to conceive. She hadn’t even been thinking about it. It hadn’t been on her radar at all. But she was young. She thought she’d have time to make the decision. And it was supposed to be _her_ decision to make. In her life, she hadn’t had a lot of freedom to make her own choices. Her father had kept her on a tight leash, so she couldn’t escape his grasp. Since his death, she’d made what decisions she could, but they hadn’t exactly been the kinds of choices a young woman would usually be making. But then, she was hardly the average 30-year-old.

Her guard dogs obediently walked her to the door of her doctor’s office. The closer she got, the more she began to hyperventilate. She didn’t want to do this, but she couldn’t run away. The police would catch her and drag her back. And begin to ask questions she didn’t want to answer. So, she let herself be guided to the door, like a prisoner to the gallows.

The doctor looked shocked at the sight of her, gasping and asking, “Mrs Walford, are you alright?”

She wanted to scream, but she didn’t have the strength. Instead, she sighed and corrected her, “It’s Georgia. Please. And I’m fine.” It was a familiar lie. How many times had she told people she was fine, when her entire life was broken? She wasn’t honestly sure if she’d ever been fine.

“Georgia, please, take a seat.”

She sat, thankful to be off her shaky legs. She felt cold and hot all at once and she seemed to be sweating.

“You look very pale and you have lost a lot of weight. Have you been experiencing any pain since the surgeries?”

Seeing an opportunity, she jumped on it. “Yes, I’ve been in a lot of pain.”

“I would’ve expected the pain to have subsided and your appetite to have returned by now. I’m going to send you for some immediate scans and make sure there’s nothing going internally that we missed.”

“I’m sure I’m fine,” Georgia said, panicked.

“Hmm,” The doctor replied, looking concerned. “Have you been speaking to anyone since the attack?”

“A few friends and my mother, but I’ve been stuck in a hotel since I was discharged.”

“I meant a therapist. I’m sure we gave you the number of one of our grief and trauma counsellors.”

She vaguely remembered being handed a business card on her way out, but she’d been too busy with other things to care about it. Besides, it was handed to her with the prescription for her painkillers. That had taken precedence.

“I haven’t. I haven’t been let out of the hotel.”

“That’s understandable. Your safety comes first, of course. Perhaps we could set up some phone appointments for you?”

The idea of talking to anyone about her “trauma” sounded like the worst idea she could think of. She didn’t need anyone else sniffing around, trying to disprove her story. She had enough of that from the police. Detective Taylor had never liked or believed her. He’d believed Bart though. Typical men, disregarding her word. That’s why she never told anyone else about what her father had done to her. Welles hadn’t believed her, so she knew no one else would.

“I’ll ring them and set it up,” She said, trying to sound as convincing as she could.

“I think that’s a good idea. It’s not a weakness to seek help,” Her voice had dropped to a soft, kind, supposed to be comforting tone. But all it did was make Georgia despise her. She wasn’t traumatised or broken. She didn’t need anybody’s pity.

“Alright, well I’d like to do an examination and some scans anyway while you’re here.”

She sighed but let herself be fussed over. The sooner it was done, the sooner it would be over with and she could escape back to the safety of her hotel room and her pills.

* * *

Marti was going to miss everyone. So much it felt like a knife in her chest. But she also knew it was for the best. She couldn’t go on like she had been. A change of scenery was exactly what she needed.

She’d been a little apprehensive about the idea of a party, when Bella had suggested it. She felt like maybe it was disrespectful to Danny’s memory, to be celebrating her life now without him. After all, if he was still there, this would’ve been their wedding. The only reason she was going to Europe was because he was gone.

But she couldn’t live her life that way.

The crowd was almost deafening, with their eating, drinking, talking and laughing. No one was drunk enough yet to take to the dancefloor, but, knowing her friends, it wouldn’t be much longer. Maybe she’d even join them. But first…

“Excuse me everyone,” She began. The microphone gave a loud screech of feedback. She wasn’t sure if it was her interruption or the horrific noise, but either way, suddenly everyone was looking at her. She was no stranger to the spotlight. Especially recently. But still, having all 100 people looking at her made her feel self-conscious – even if they were her friends and family.

“We all know why we’re here – because Bella and Marc generously decided to throw me a party.” There were a few polite chuckles amongst the crowd. Bella was off to the side of the room, next to Sophia, who hadn’t brought David with her to the party, which she found strange, but she didn’t mind not having him there. While there were plenty of footballers in attendance, she wasn’t a WAG anymore. She had other friends she’d neglected. Now she was leaving them altogether.

“But also, I’m leaving for Europe in a few days, to travel the globe and see all the sights, something I’ve always dreamt of doing.”

She paused. She didn’t know how much to say. But she needed to say something. Everyone there, whether they’d been her friend first or not, had known and loved Danny. To be fair, to know Danny was to love him.

“I always wanted to travel, since I was a kid. My parents will tell you how I never shut up about it. Until I met someone worth staying for. I stayed for Danny. And I don’t regret it. Not for a second. His dreams were my dreams. I supported him 100%.”

“But he’s gone. And now it’s time to figure out who I am without him again. Because he wouldn’t want me throwing my life away. He taught me that while life is short, we need to make the most of it, like he did.”

She looked to Sophia, who had tears in her eyes. She still couldn’t believe how cruel she’d been to her almost mother-in-law. That was something she would always regret, no matter how many times Sophia assured her she forgave her.

“I don’t know where my adventures will lead. But I know that I’m doing what he’d want me to do. So, let’s raise a toast, to Danny and to whatever comes next.” She raised her glass and everyone else followed suit, echoing her words.

Looking around, she saw tears in people’s eyes. But she also saw their smiles.

And she could almost swear she saw Danny smiling as he walked out the door. But she blinked and he was gone. As was the ache in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Phillip in this one, but we'll be back with him very soon. Don't worry. 
> 
> Also, I feel for Marti. She had her whole life laid out before her, with hope and love and it was destroyed. I'd be pretty devastated and angry too.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note - Bella's new friend has had a name change. She was Gia. She's now Aisling or Ash for short.

Cate escaped the house as quickly as she reasonably could. It had only been 24 hours since Sandra had left, but the house had become darker, colder. and Phillip’s mood had hung above them like a storm cloud. It was like all their good work had been destroyed in one moment. And now he was back to be the grumpy, angry, vengeful person he’d been before. She wanted to talk to him, try to make him see sense, but she knew it would only lead to another fight. She didn’t have the energy for that.

And she couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t discover her part in the plot. She couldn’t risk it.

Bart was the perfect excuse and escape. He always had been her safe space. But now that he was hurt, lying in a hospital bed, she could be there for him, as the caring, doting mother, and avoid Phillip’s wrath all at once.

She snuck out of the house, without so much as a word to Phillip. If he needed her, he’d call her. Which she knew he would, sooner or later. He no longer had a personal nurse at his beck and call. He’d need his drugs or a newspaper or someone to yell at, and she’d be the only option. But that was far superior to the alternative. Sandra had saved her life, by jumping on that grenade. She could never pay her back for what she’d done. She’d been Cate’s first real friend in a long time. All the wives of Phillip’s business associates might pretend to care, but they only wanted the latest bit of gossip to share.

She wished she had someone to confide in now. But Sandra was gone. Bart was recovering. Who could she talk to who would understand?

The only other person Cate had trusted lately had been Julian. She hadn’t been lying when she said she’d loved him. She’d loved having someone stand up to Phillip for her. Someone who listened and cared and promised her a better future. Maybe it wouldn’t have ever worked out between them, but the idea of a life with him had gotten her through the toughest moments. And comparing what she’d felt for Gareth to what she’d felt for Julian was a stark contrast. Thank goodness, knowing what she knew now.

The first person she saw, as she walked through the hospital doors, as if summoned by the very thought of him, was Julian. Their eyes met and she couldn’t help herself.

* * *

Everyone was starting to file out. It had been a crazy night, but Bella was proud of the fact it had been a success. She’d had many people complimenting her and asking her to plan their next party. She’d tried to be gracious, but she found it hard. She always had. Ash had been helping with that. Miles complained she’d been spending too much time on the assignment and not enough time with him and the rest of the band, but she’d been enjoying Ash’s company. She found her incredibly easy to be around, which for an introvert like Bella, was a big deal. They had the same sense of humour and Ash actually listened when Bella spoke – something that even her mother didn’t do half the time.

In fact, she wished she’d brought Ash to the party. Ash would’ve been able to accept all the compliments on her behalf, while she just stood there awkwardly, blushing and trying not to make a fool of herself. Bella couldn’t imagine Ash acting like a fool. She seemed effortlessly cool and Bella liked being able to be around it. It was like she could be cool by association. She still couldn’t quite believe someone like Ash wanted to hang out with her. And they did hang out, because while they’d started meeting up to do their assignment, they started taking longer and longer together, talking well after they’d stopped practising. Bella didn’t mind in the slightest. She could’ve sat and talked to her all night. She looked forward to talking and laughing with her. She found herself thinking, “I should tell Ash that” or “Ash would like that” throughout the day. She’d never had another friendship like it.

The room had emptied while Bella had been busy tidying up. Because the fun part had been the organising, as stressful as it had sometimes been, coordinating everything. The cleaning and packing up was the worst bit. Thankfully, her mother was there to help, as well as Marc, but even he’d called it a night a few minutes before, after she assured him that she had it under control.

She wondered again why he was still being so thoughtful. Not that she didn’t appreciate it, it was just such a huge change. He used to barely even look at her. He’d always been polite, of course. More than Danny’s other friends. But it still hadn’t been a friendship.

Her life had just been so different from Danny’s. It was almost funny that since he was gone, she’d been drawn further and further into his world.

“Hey Bella,” Marti interrupted her thoughts, “Do you need a hand with anything?”

“Of course not. It was your party. You shouldn’t have to clean up.”

“I don’t mind. Honestly. You’ve already done so much.”

Bella wanted to argue, but Martina had already started helping. They worked in silence for a moment.

“Thank you for doing this for me.”

Bella had been hearing it all night, but now it was just her and Marti (and her mother, somewhere near the kitchen), she felt she could finally respond how she wanted to.

“It was no big deal. I didn’t mind,” She waved the compliment away like an annoying insect.

“You’re too kind, Bella. You need to learn to take a compliment.”

“I’m working on it.”

“I noticed. You’ve really come out of your shell recently. It suits you.”

She blushed and busied herself taking the streamers off the wall.

“I’m not the only one who’s noticed, you know,” Her voice was light and teasing and Bella looked at her in question. “Marc. He’s quite smitten.”

She blushed harder and wanted to argue but couldn’t seem to find the words.

Marti seemed to notice her distress, because she continued, “I thought you liked him?”

“I did. I do. How did you know?”

“I could just see it. A sister knows these things. Besides, you watched him, like I watched Danny.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t realised she’d been that completely transparent.

“It’s ok to be nervous. I know when I first started dating Danny, I was constantly thinking about him, nervous to be around him, but craving it too.” She looked so wistful and wore a shadow of a smile.

Bella had used to feel that with Marc. But since their date, the feeling had fizzled out. Now, she’d much rather hang out with Ash. In fact…

“I need to stop talking about Danny eventually, don’t I? I worry people get sick of me talking about him all the time.” Marti confided.

“He was a big part of your life. No one can blame you for talking about him.”

“He was my life, Bella. I would’ve given up everything for him. If he was recruited to a Melbourne club, I would’ve packed and moved without hesitation. But now, I guess I need to make a life without him.”

“We all do,” Sophia added, coming back and joining them. She put her arms around them both, drawing them into a group hug.

“You’ll always be a part of this family, Martina, no matter what.”

“Thank you.”

The three women hugged and let the grief wash over them as one. When they pulled back, they shared smiles. It was time.

* * *

Phillip was annoyed. Since he’d fired Sandra, he had no one to fetch his medications, bring him his books or berate him. He’d have called for Cate, but he’d been told by the maid, Martha, that she’d already crept out early that morning. She’d been making herself scarce since Sandra left and he wondered why. She couldn’t be angry at him for firing her, could she? She’d lied to him – to them. As much as Cate had enjoyed having Sandra as a friend, surely that was enough to sever ties. She’d taken his money while callously lying to his face. It was something he’d never expected of the mild-mannered nurse. But then, he’d never expected Cate to cheat on him, with his own father at that. He thought he’d been a good judge of character. After all, he’d trained in high powered board rooms, making deals worth millions or billions of dollars. He couldn’t have succeeded in business if he’d let himself be blindsided by liars and cheats.

Why were these women his weak spot? Why did they manage to sneak into his life and ruin him?

_Was Sophia the same?_

“Martha! Can you bring me my slippers and help me to my study?”

“Of course, Mr Walford,” She rushed to do his bidding. She wasn’t employed to do that, but he had no alternative. He could still barely hold himself upright – at least not without the cane – but he had research to do.

He had so many questions to answer and truths to uncover.

* * *

Sophia couldn’t stop thinking about what Marti had said. She would’ve moved to Melbourne for Danny in an instant. But when David had asked the same of her, she’d instantly known she couldn’t do it. If that didn’t confirm what she’d already known deep down, she wasn’t sure what would. He wasn’t her world and never would be.

Now she just needed to tell him that. And she knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

* * *

“You let Mrs Jones take all the blame?” Julian didn’t know what else to say. He still couldn’t believe it.

He’d known Phillip had wanted the name of his donor. He’d known he’d stop at nothing to get it. But he hadn’t expected for Cate and Sandra to lie to him and trick him into thinking he had Danny Grey’s heart. It made the name of the foundation make far more sense, of course, but the level of deception was more than he could ever have imagined. He’d thought Sandra had more integrity than that. He didn’t know her particularly well, since doctors and nurses tended to keep to themselves more often than not, but she’d struck him as a responsible, sensible woman.

And then there was Cate... He’d known she’d lied to Phillip about their relationship and assumed it hadn’t been the only thing she kept from her husband. But this... This was cruel. Not only had she lied to Phillip, but the Grey’s as well. For her own selfish reasons, no matter how she tried to rationalise it. That was beyond forgiveness.

He still loved her, but at that moment, he didn’t like her at all.

“She had quit regardless. Phillip just wasn’t letting her go.”

“That’s no excuse! Cate, you have to tell him the truth.”

“But it will destroy me. And us. And him. I can’t.”

If it did destroy the Walford marriage, Julian would’ve won. And maybe then they could be together, without Phillip always looming over them.

“These things have a way of coming out.”

“Who could possibly tell him? I’m not going to, and neither is Sandra. Even his darling Sophia only knows that someone lied. She doesn’t know I had anything to do with it.”

The jealousy was dripping from her words when she said Sophia’s name. Strange, to see her jealous over a man she’d hated months ago. She could barely wait to escape Phillip. Now, she was fighting to stay.

“And now you know. But you won’t tell him… Will you?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t think of it.”

“Thank you.” She looked at him as if she still cared. As if she hadn’t broken his heart.

Julian sighed. He should’ve known not to get personally involved. Not just from the ethics perspective, though there was that too. But Cate and Phillip were more complex than he could untangle in a million years.

He needed to let her go.

“I have to get back to work. Good luck with everything, Cate. I hope you get what you wanted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's goodbye to Marti. She's off to live her life in Europe.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps. Sorry it's a little late. Work was ultra busy today and always. I need a nap. 
> 
> We're back with Phillip a little this chapter. And we have a newlywed reunion...

Phillip was fed up. He’d spent the entire morning on his laptop, cyberstalking Sophia – though as she only had a private Facebook and Bella only had an inactive Twitter and barely used Instagram, he didn’t get very far. He was surprised he even managed to find their social media accounts at all, given his disgust with all its forms. He didn’t understand the appeal.

He had more luck with Danny’s profiles, but even then, it was mostly photos and videos of football games and practices. There was the odd picture of Martina, but he didn’t pay those much mind. She seemed a nice enough young lady, but she wasn’t his main focus. He needed to know if Sophia was lying about the letter. Despite Sandra picking Danny’s name at random, Phillip still believed his heart was Danny’s. Otherwise why was he drawn to Sophia like he was? Why had he adopted Danny’s hobbies and habits? There was no other explanation – was there?

He tried looking up other accidents and deaths at the time of his transplant, but none of the names or faces meant a thing to him. Didn’t that mean something?

He wished he’d asked Sandra more questions before she’d left, to understand why, but he’d been too emotional to think rationally. He thought about ringing her now, but he doubted she’d speak to him. And he would probably just end up angrier than he was now. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

He rested his hand over his heart, closed his eyes and breathed. He could feel Danny. He couldn’t explain it, but it he felt something that he just knew was Danny’s – whether it be his soul or his spirit or something. Not that he believed in any of that mumbo jumbo. But he hadn’t believed a heart could change him either, before.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, opening his eyes. Martha had been passing by the doorway and gave a startled squeak.

“Sorry,” He called out, but she’d already scurried off down the hall.

He wasn’t any closer to an answer than he had been before. If anything, he was more confused and frustrated than ever.

He needed to talk to Sophia again. He’d tried to give her space, but his hunger for answers outweighed everything else.

He picked up the phone and waited.

* * *

Memory loss, the doctors said. Over and over, like he might forget. They encouraged him, telling him he might regain some of it, over time. But Bart couldn’t imagine how he could possibly have forgotten everything the news said happened. And they said _a lot_ had happened.

His father had nearly died. Twice. And been given a donor heart. He’d started a charity for donors and their families. His father, running a charity? It seemed unlikely, but the internet told him it was so.

His mother had been mysteriously more absent from the press than usual. As had he. Until he made front page news marrying this Georgia Konig. He had to admit, she was pretty. But she had a past, which was rather graphically laid out in every tabloid possible. Her father, a man he knew his mother had been sleeping with, had turned out to be a complete monster, who had killed himself. Thanks to his father bankrupting and blackmailing him.

How the hell did they end up married with a messy family history like that?

She was also suing an esteemed member of the clergy, but that was neither here nor there, compared to everything else.

And somehow, they’d both been shot. What a way to start a marriage.

When did his life become a soap opera? It was almost unbelievable.

“It’s fine! I just want to visit my husband,” A slightly accented and heavily annoyed voice was floating down the hall. Not a second later, his doorway was filled with three figures. He recognised the middle one instantly. His wife – though she looked far paler and frailer than in any of the pictures he’d seen. She looked like the walking dead.

The other two people were recognisable only by their uniforms. Police. He had his own two stationed outside his door at all times, in case his wannabe assassin decided to give it another shot – literally. 

He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact he hadn’t woken up in an alternate universe.

“Hi,” He greeted her. It felt somewhat underwhelming, given their relationship and circumstances, but he didn’t know how to talk to his wife.

It got stranger every time he thought it.

Her face contorted, from shock to something sour, before she schooled it into a bright smile.

“I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

She waved the police away. They were practically grumbling as they positioned themselves to keep watch.

“Yeah. Apparently being in a coma was exhausting. I’ve barely been awake since they woke me. You just caught me at the right time.” He tried to seem happy to see her, but he knew it was falling flat.

“How are you?” She suddenly hurried to his side, grabbing his hand in hers, as if she’d forgotten she was supposed to care. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing something.

“I’ve been better, but the doctors keep telling I was lucky, in case I’ll forget that too.”

She gave a light giggle, but it was forced. She could barely look at him, eyes trained over at the cupboards across the room.

It suddenly hit him that of course she was feeling awkward around him. She must know his memory had erased her. On top of her own pain and suffering, she’d lost her husband too, even though he was in front of her. That must be hard.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember us. My memory might return, with time. It’s not a guarantee, but I’m going to try. I promise.”

“That’s ok. Take all the time you need. You’ve been through so much.” It sounded sincere enough, but there was no emotion in her eyes. She was looking at him as if he was no one. Something was wrong. But he didn’t know what, because he didn’t know her.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, you can.”

“Did we have a fight or something, before the attack?”

“Only with your father, though he apologised.”

“My father apologised..? Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing he’d do. And I got the feeling he doesn’t approve of us?”

“It was funny, seeing the great Phillip Walford apologising and humbling himself,” She was smiling widely, almost cruelly, now, “But yes, he threatened to disown you when we told him we were married. I almost thought he’d have another heart attack,” She laughed.

He squirmed. His father wasn’t a kind man, but he wasn’t evil. Hearing her speak of him dying so casually rubbed him the wrong way. From what he’d read, his father had changed. He needed to talk to his mum and figure out what had happened. This was all so frustrating, having no memory of her, no idea what had changed and how he was supposed to act.

“Is it ok if I have a nap? I’m a little bit tired.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just sit and play on my phone, if that’s ok?”

He’d been hoping she’d leave, but he couldn’t throw her out, no matter how much he might wish to.

“Of course.” He gave her a brittle smile, that she returned with equal vigour.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore her presence. He knew it was futile, but maybe she’d get bored and leave. He was very aware of all the noises she was making, and she soon stood up. It sounded like she was rummaging through his cupboards, but he didn’t dare open his eyes.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long until they were interrupted.

“Hello, Georgia. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

* * *

The phone was ringing. Again. It hadn’t stopped in days. She’d put it on silent, but the vibrating was hardly better. Sophia knew she had to pick it up at some point. She couldn’t just ignore David forever, as tempting as it might be.

She’d thought about it, over and over, trying to figure out what to say, but she still had no idea. She knew he was going to take it badly, no matter how she phrased it. Especially given his erratic behaviour lately. She didn’t want to compound his issues, but equally, she couldn’t stay with him. That wasn’t fair to either of them.

The phone stopped and she sighed into the blissful silence.

Until it started again.

Bella stomped into the room, looking livid.

“Please, for the sake of my mental health, would you answer the phone? Or turn it off? Or throw it off a bridge or something? Just please shut it up.”

She wanted to tell her off for being rude, but she also couldn’t blame her. It had been driving her crazy too. 

“I’m sorry.”

And then it started vibrating again. Bella glared and turned to leave the room without another word.

Sighing, she picked it up. She’d expected David’s name, but she was greeted with Phillip’s instead. Which was far worse. Because as much time as she’d spent thinking of what to say to David, she’d spent absolutely no time figuring out what to say to Phillip. She’d been avoiding thinking about it, wrapping herself up in everything, anything, else. She’d hoped she’d have more time.

She watched the phone ring, his name flashing on the screen. She was almost tempted to answer, but by the time she’d convinced her hand to move and pick it up, it had already gone to voicemail.

She sat frozen. Who should she ring back first? Could she afford to put them both off for a little longer? She knew she couldn’t. And she wasn’t usually one to back down from anything, no matter how uncomfortable or unpleasant. She’d gone on national television and talked about her son’s drug dealing. If she could do that, she could talk to her fiancé and… Whatever it was that Phillip was.

She clicked on missed calls and after hesitating a moment, she tapped on the name she wanted to talk to first, good or bad.

* * *

Bella was trying to study. Sort of. She had been trying, but her mother’s phone had been ringing incessantly and driving her insane, so she’d given up and taken to scrolling through her social media. She also had an unanswered message from Marc that she had to reply to. She’d expected, since Marti’s party was done, that he’d stop messaging her. But he hadn’t.

She thought back to what Marti had said, that he was ‘smitten’ with her. Bella didn’t believe that for a second, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he was still forcing the friendship. He didn’t have to. She wondered if she should tell him that? Maybe he was feeling guilty, that he hadn’t stopped Danny from doing what he’d done? Or maybe he was trying to be a surrogate brother? Whatever it was, he didn’t need to feel any obligation on her behalf.

And if Marti, who knew them both incredibly well, thought Marc was interested in her, did other people think so too? Surely, they could see how unsuited for each other they were? Georgia Konig had guessed her crush after only a few minutes, and somehow thought Bella was too good for him (as if). But for someone to think he might like her was absurdity.

As she was typing her reply to Marc, her phone vibrated with a message from Ash. It made her heart leap and she found herself smiling before she even opened it. They’d been trading memes and funny videos for days. Every time Bella saw something funny, she instantly wanted to send it to her. She’d had to stop herself more than once, having to remind herself that messaging cute animal videos at 2am was not socially acceptable. Still, it never took Ash long to respond in kind and they could message back and forth for hours sometimes.

It was nice having a friend to talk to who didn’t know her brother or her mother. They’d started on a clean slate and Ash seemed to like her, for her. It wasn’t something Bella was used to, but she was enjoying it.

“ _I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch together after class this week?_ ” Ash asked.

Bella quickly replied with a “ _Sure_ " and a smiley face. It wasn’t like she had to ask. They’d been hanging out for a while. And sure, they’d never eaten together, it seemed a bit strange for her to ask, especially so far in advance. But Bella wasn’t going to say no.

She totally forgot to reply to Marc.


End file.
